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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24963712">Woes, Wishes, and a Wedding</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostpun/pseuds/ghostpun'>ghostpun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>BIRDMEN - 田辺イエロウ | Tanabe Yellow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5 year time skip, Canon Compliant, College, Dogs, Friends to Lovers, Gen, M/M, Mild Language, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Takayama &amp; Pining Karasuma, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, POV Alternating, Post-Canon, Roommates, Slow Burn, Weddings, YES I WROTE A DOG IN THIS FIC AND YOU CANNOT STOP ME!, [cracks knuckles] oh boy, and if you comment on it below asking for a summary ill gladly give you one!, and they were roomates (oh my god they were roomates), i cant use the alternate universe tag for it because its post canon....., i will make you all love tempest the same amount tiara and i do, its not brought up much but I'll still put a warning on the chapters, just one and like it's not bad i promise okay, so many flashbacks in this i am so sorry i could not stop, still in 3rd person!, there's some drinking in 2 of the chapters but they're all drinking age!, uhhh what else is there</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:42:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24963712</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostpun/pseuds/ghostpun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been five years since everything, yet Takayama and Karasuma still dance around each other.</p><p> </p><p>AKA Karsuma pines for five years, and Takayama does too, but never notices. This was supposed to be a 1k fic and it ended up being a 25k slow burn. Enjoy?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adler/Barbara Novak (Birdmen), Kamoda Mikisada/Sagisawa Rei, Karasuma Eishi &amp; Takayama Sou, Karasuma Eishi/Takayama Sou, Minor or Background Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>[spins around in a chair] hello hello! Welcome to the largest fic I have ever written to date. I usually do &lt;5k fics, but as you can tell I have gone a little overboard on this. I'm still figuring out how to write bigger fics like this (and I have a few more bigger fics in the drafts) so I would super appreciate feedback! I kinda poured a lot into this, and if you could leave a kudos/a comment if you enjoyed it, I'd super appreciate the validation</p><p>Special shoutout to my bff Tiara for beta reading (SERIOUSLY THANK YOU MY WRITING WOULD BE NOTHING WITHOUT YOU), and for the lovely people from the birdmen discord for motivating me to actually finish this (especially sara and twig! &lt;3) ! :yosh: </p><p>also, this work is multiple chapters, but the whole thing is finished! I'm going to be posting them all in one go, so if you happen to get here before I get them all on here...just refresh the page once in a while to get a new chapter?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Adulthood was already stressful enough, Karasuma found, what with juggling college, a job, and dealing with the aftermath of changing the entire world when he was fifteen. He’s brainwashed government employees, traveled across the world, and changed fate with his own two hands.</p>
<p>And yet, his adult life was still relatively normal. </p>
<p>So when Karasuma shut the door to his shitty apartment at 9 pm after a relatively long day, only to see a paper from his landlord telling him his rent was shooting up far past what he could afford, Karasuma found himself a bit screwed. Sure, he supposes he could brainwash the 70 year-old geezer, but it was morally wrong, so it’s fine, it’s <em> fine </em>! He never liked this place anyways: the neighbor was convinced he’d make it big as a rock star, and the bathroom was like something out of a horror movie. But Karasuma needed a new apartment</p>
<p>He laments about his situation to his friends over coffee. “Why would he even raise my rent so much out of the blue?! ”</p>
<p>Umino smiles sympathetically. “Maybe he raised it because he figured out one of his tenants is famous?”</p>
<p>“Ugh!” He takes a bitter sip of his black coffee. “I blame you.” He growls, pointing to where Takayama lounged on the chair. “Your 5-year-old-shenanigans just cost me an apartment.”</p>
<p>Takayama shrugs. “You don’t regret it.”</p>
<p>“<em> Not </em> the point. My apartment lease ends this month, and like hell I can stay there, so where am I going to live?!”</p>
<p>“You’ll think of something!” Umino drinks her own cup, whipped cream getting on her nose. “I’d offer, but I think you and Irene would kill each other.”</p>
<p>Irene grins toothily. “Our apartment is a ‘men free’ zone anyways.” </p>
<p>“You can crash at our place!” Kamoda interrupts, slinging an arm over Sagisawa’s shoulder. “We have a couch you can sleep on until you find another apartment!”</p>
<p>“You don’t mind me budging in?”</p>
<p>The brunette waves a hand around dismissively. “It’s fine, it’s not like we didn’t have sleepovers all the time in high school.”</p>
<p>Karasuma’s overwhelmed with relief. “I won’t stay long, I promise. I get paid next week and I’ll look for places during my down time. Seriously, I <em> owe </em> you guys.”</p>
<p>“Don’t get mushy on us, man.” Sagisawa laughs, before taking a sip of his drink. “Eugh, not enough sugar.”</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>Karasuma sleeps on Kamoda and Sagisawa’s couch for two weeks before he’s at his wits end. Seriously, who even wakes up at 5 am on their own volition?! Karasuma goes to bed at 3 am on a <em> good </em> day. Sagisawa also goes to bed late, but he seemed to actually thrive- <em> thrive! </em> - on only 3 hours of sleep. Not to mention Karasuma also hates being a third wheel: Kamoda and Sagsiawa had gotten together at some point in highschool, and while Karasuma adamantly believes they are very sweet and perfect for each other, he would <em> greatly </em> prefer not having to live with a couple. </p>
<p>Annoyingly, he was having little luck at finding an apartment. He’s checked out five different complexes since moving out, and none of them worked (too small, too gross, too <em> expensive </em> ). He’s <em> this </em> close to going bald from stress.</p>
<p>Before he can scream into his pillow, Aia, Kamoda and Sagisawa’s cat, jumps up onto the couch. The 19 year old sighs, scratching the fluffy kitten’s head. “Why is everything so complicated?”</p>
<p>“Talking to the cat again?” Sagisawa calls, emerging from his bedroom and opening up the fridge. “What’s she saying?”</p>
<p>“Nothing useful.”</p>
<p>Sagisawa cracks open a drink. “No luck with apartments?” </p>
<p>“Ugh,” He lies against the backrest. “At this rate I’ll have to move back in with my mother...”</p>
<p>“Are you really <em> that </em> out of options?”</p>
<p>The raven-haired man drags his hands down his face. “...Well, I have been considering this <em> one </em>other option…”</p>
<p>“Mhm?”</p>
<p>Karasuma screws his eyes shut. </p>
<p>Takayama currently had no roommate. His apartment, decently sized for two people, happens to lay between both Karasuma’s work at the store, and Takayama’s work at the repair shop. “What if I asked Sou?”</p>
<p>Sagisawa raises an eyebrow from behind the counter. “Really? You’d be up for rooming with him?”</p>
<p>“Sure, there might be a slight problem here and there,” Karasuma laments, joining his friend at the counter, “but we’ve been friends for years, we’ll be fine.”</p>
<p>Sagisawa points to him with his can. “And this ‘slight problem’ wouldn’t happen to  be your hopeless crush on him?”</p>
<p>“Wh-you!!” He can feel his cheeks burning. “Fuck off!”</p>
<p>So <em> maybe </em> he has a crush on Takayama. Whatever, no big deal! He’s already been able to squash down the feelings he’s had for his stupid, attractive friend for five years now, he thinks he could handle living with the guy.</p>
<p>“Well, good luck with that, then.” Sagisawa merely shrugs. “I’m sure he’ll agree when you ask.”</p>
<p>...Right, Karasuma actually has to <em> ask </em> him. Ask to move in with his crush, under the same roof, for the foreseeable future.</p>
<p>Fuck.</p>
<p>It takes him all of the next day to finalize his speech. Kamoda calls him “ridiculous,” but Karasuma knows that if he just asked straight up, he’ll end up fumbling over his words. So he treats it like how he would write a public speech, revising his key points over and over, even practicing in the mirror before he walks out the door that Saturday.</p>
<p>A small part of him wishes Takayama will turn him down. Sagisawa and his conversation buzzes through his head as he swoops down to Takayama’s apartment, and treks up the steps. Before he can chicken out, he forces himself to knock on the gray door. He’s got this, right?</p>
<p>The lock shifts, and it soon creaks open. Takayama spots him, his face breaking into a soft smile, and Karasuma already feels sparks kick off in his chest.</p>
<p>“Hey.” He greets.</p>
<p>“Hey.” Karasuma refuses to melt at the fondness in the other’s voice. “Thanks for having me over.” He sidesteps into the hallway of the apartment.</p>
<p>“It’s no problem. You said you wanted to discuss something?”</p>
<p>“Right, well…” He glances instinctively away and towards the living room, before pausing. “Is that a dog?”</p>
<p>Takayama peers around him, as if he’s also shocked to see it for a moment. “Ah, yes. I adopted her a few weeks ago.”</p>
<p>The puppy-an English mastiff, Karasuma recognizes-starts wagging her tail at such a speed that her whole body starts to wiggle. </p>
<p>Takayama moves past him  to crouch beside her, grin evident. “Her name’s Tempest. Fiona suggested it.” </p>
<p>Karasuma tries not to blush at Takayama’s smile.<em> Fuck, he’s cute. </em>“She’s adorable,” Karasuma laments.</p>
<p>“Would you like to pet her? She’s very docile.” </p>
<p>Karasuma finds himself nodding, carefully taking a seat next to his friend and gently sticking his fingers in the cage. Tempest immediately starts licking his hand. “Gross.” He grumbles, but can’t help but be charmed by the little one.</p>
<p>Tempest pushes her nose through the cage, happily sniffing.</p>
<p>“So, what did you want to talk about?” Takayama turns to look at him.</p>
<p>Karasuma laughs nervously. “Well, you know how I’ve been looking for a new apartment? Okay, so, well. I was thinking, what if I moved in with you?” Karasuma’s entire speech is suddenly nowhere to be found inside his head, and he desperately tries to remember his points. Maybe he should’ve brought his flashcards with him after all. “I can pay my fair share of the rent, I have a job at a grocery store as you know! And, well, I know you like your privacy, and this works out too! You work mainly night shifts, and I work day shifts, as well as taking classes, so I won’t bother you much!  Besides, we’ve known each other for years, right? We’ve slept beside each other in trees and in mountain fields before, so think of it like a better version of that! But I understand if you’re not for that, I mean. You did just get a new dog, so a new roommate could be a lot. Plus, I’m kinda throwing this all on you. And-“</p>
<p>Takayama interrupts. “You can move in.”</p>
<p>“I can also-wait, really?” </p>
<p>Takayama nods. “Of course.” He smiles. “It won’t be hard to add you to the lease.”</p>
<p>Karasuma‘s brain buffers for a moment. “O-Oh! That’s great, then. Thank you.”</p>
<p>“Mhm.” Takayama looks down at his dog. “I hope you like dogs.”</p>
<p>Tempest barks in her cage.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Takayama doesn’t mind having a roommate. He’s never thought about the idea much, but he likes having Karasuma around. He always had, even when their friendship was a bit rocky. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once they had gotten back from their travels across the world, he and Karasuma slowly rebuilt the breaks in their bond. He remembers when he had finally decided to stop focusing purely on the prophecy and the future of the world. With all things said and done, with the Seven gathered and wishes fulfilled, Takayama thought it was best for him to retire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Like hell you’ll ‘retire!’” Karasuma had basically shouted at him 3 days into being back home. “You can’t just string together a prophecy, change the world, then leave the seven of us to do whatever!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Karasuma-“</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No way! I’m dragging you to meetings with the Seven whether you like it or not! Who even ‘retires’ at fifteen, anyways?!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thus, Karasuma would randomly show up at his house to drag him to important meetings. And Takayama would randomly show up at Karasuma’s to convince him to ditch his homework and fly around the city. And gradually, the two started hanging out as much as they did before Takayama’s leave, and perhaps even more than that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The months went by like that, and Karasuma somehow convinced Takayama to start and finish highschool (“It looks better on applications, y’know!”). When Karasuma suggested he go to college, however, Takayama politely declined, stating his work at a car shop was already offering him a full-time job. “I’m not smart enough for college, anyways,” He said. Karasuma huffed in disappointment, but didn’t push it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And two years later, Karasuma’s moves in with him. Takayama’s apartment was nothing special, a typical space composed of a living area (which bled into a kitchen), a bathroom, and a bedroom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma had claimed the left side of the bedroom (closest to the door), with only a futon. “I don’t need much.” He had shrugged, knowing Takayama wouldn’t judge, having barely any furniture in his apartment at all. The most decked out area was his kitchen, only because of the appliances that came with it and the pots, pans, and knives he needed so he could eat. By contrast, the living room had only a plastic stool for a seat (Bird Club Hangouts were always at Kamoda and Sagisawa’s place, anyways).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously, how do you live like this? Where do you even eat?” Karasuma questioned, day 2 of moving in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At the kitchen counter?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His new roommate looks horrified. “I know I said I don’t need much, but, seriously, can we at least get a </span>
  <em>
    <span>table</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Or a </span>
  <em>
    <span>couch</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I guess?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which is how Takayama ends up at an Ikea on a sunny, April afternoon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you ever been in one of these before?” Karasuma has an amused expression on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama does a sweep of the giant room, full with different sections of home appliances and decorations. “No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a bit overwhelming, with all the different floors, but it is fun, I guess.” He straightens. “Oh! I see the couches.” Before starting to drag them both over. “You have to test them out too, since you’ll be sitting on it all the time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anything is fine, you can choose.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karasuma huffs before shoving him onto a blue couch. “So? Any thoughts?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama shrugs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh! You’re no help.” The 20 year-old plops down beside him. “It’s a little too stiff, isn’t it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama hums an “I dunno,” earning an eye roll. Karasuma gets up to seat himself onto a red sofa across from the other, and his  short frame immediately starts to sink into the cushion. Takayama can’t help but quietly snort at the sight. “I think that one’s too soft.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Definitely.” He tries to squirm his way out, “Agh! How do I get out of this?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They settle on a two-seat, dark gray sofa after numerous comparisons. (“There goes our extra savings for the next few months...” “We don’t have to buy the couch, Eishi.” “I’m not sitting on the floor, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sou</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad the others aren’t here,” Karasuma laughs, “I’m sure Rei would have forced us to buy these ugly throw pillows.” He rubs his hand on the sequined design, flipping the colors from gold to black.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the trip is pretty dull, with the main purchase out of the way. Karasuma promises to find a way to get them a proper table at some point, even if it would take a while. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takayama’s perfectly content with eating dinner shoulder to shoulder with Karasuma on their new couch.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Takayama pulls Karasuma’s laptop out, placing it on the kitchen counter. He’s still relatively new to the whole “technology” thing, but he finds his way to the right browser, before pushing on Fiona’s contact number. It rings, once, twice, before a sound in the speaker <em> whooshes </em> , and suddenly Fiona can be seen glaring at the screen, short hair wet from getting out of the shower. “Eishi, it is 8 in the <em> goddamn morning </em>, what do you w-Oh. Hi, Sou.”</p><p>“Hey.” <em> Right, London functioned on a different time zone. </em></p><p>She ruffles her hair with the small towel on her shoulders. “I’m surprised you’re the one calling. Like, usually if you want to talk you just show up in my dreams. Or break into my flat at 3 am.” </p><p>“I only did that once,” Takayama frowns, “I needed you to help find the seven.”</p><p>“And I’m still not over it!” She gripes, picking up her laptop to move it to her desk, and Takayama can get a better shot of the annoyed college student and her pink Hello Kitty shirt. “Where’s the Bellwether, anyways?”</p><p>“Work.”</p><p>“And you decided to call on his laptop to chat?”</p><p>Takayama nods. “Eishi also agrees it’s annoying when I use dreams to communicate.”</p><p>That causes the blonde to snort out a laugh before rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I’m <em> sure </em> he’s <em> soo </em> tired of you appearing in his dreams.”</p><p>The sarcasm flies completely over Takayama’s head, who merely shrugs, pleased that they’ve come to an agreement, and moves on. “I thought I’d update you on Tempest.”</p><p>The 18 year-old perks up. “Yes! Oh my gosh, where is she?” </p><p>He whistles, tapping his leg, and Tempest immediately lifts her head from her cage before leaping over. Takayama scoops her up into his arms and shows her off to the camera. Fiona lets out a delighted squeal. “Ohhh! Tempest you’re so cuuute!!~”</p><p>The puppy sniffs the camera curiously. “She’s very friendly.” Takayama notes.</p><p>“Oh, are you a good girl, Tempest?”</p><p>“She’s the best girl.” He moves her away from the camera so she sits in his lap. Tempest only wiggles a tiny bit before settling down.</p><p>“How has Eishi been getting along with her? I thought he’d be more of a cat guy, honestly.” Her voice is staticy from the receiver.</p><p>Takayama thinks. “He likes her. She <em> is </em> clingy, and he acts annoyed when she keeps trying to get his attention, but I know he likes her anyways.”</p><p>“Well I’m glad both her parents like her.” She smirks, sitting back and reaching for her water bottle.</p><p>“Parents..?” </p><p>She waves her hand away as she takes a swig. “Never mind. Anyways, what’s up? How’s the rest of the bird club?”</p><p>“They’re fine. They’re all in school, so.” </p><p>Fiona nods. “Do you ever regret not going to college?” He shrugs. </p><p>The silence lands for a few moments as Fiona looks around for something off screen. “What time is it over there, anyways?”</p><p>“Uh.” He squints at the corner of the laptop screen. “4:30 pm. I should work on dinner soon.”</p><p>“What’re you thinking of making?”</p><p>He shrugs. “Fast food?”</p><p>She sits back in her seat, placing her chin on her palm. “<em> Boring </em>. I know for a fact you can cook, why not make a nice dinner for you and Eishi? I’m sure he’d appreciate it after a day of work and college.”</p><p>“I suppose-“</p><p>“And <em> speaking </em> of college, I have a class I need to get to. It was great catching up, but I’m <em> not </em> going to be late, so, bye.”</p><p>“Bye-“ But Fiona had already hung up. Takayama closes the laptop, setting Tempest on the floor.</p><p>
  <em> Dinner, huh… </em>
</p><p>He quietly turns and opens up their fridge. He tries not to buy too much, but due to their seraphication, Takayama and Karasuma both ate a lot. He takes quick mental notes of all the things he has on hand. After mulling it over for a few minutes, he sets aside shrimp, an egg, carrots, eggplant, dried sardines, kombu, as well as pre-packaged udon noodle (he was feeling motivated enough for  batter and soup, but definitely not extra enough to make his own noodles). He also rummages around in the cabinets to find the salt, bonito flakes, and flour. </p><p>He quickly gets to work, preparing the shrimp and cutting the muscle strings before switching focus to chop up the carrots and eggplant to fry later. </p><p>Having finished with that, he pulls out a pot and places his sardines and kombu in, heating them with water and  scooping them out right before boiling. He adds in the bonito flakes to the boil, while he makes the tempura batter with the egg, flour, and water. When it’s all incorporated, he takes a moment to take the soup off the stove and begins to strain it, waiting for it to all drip down before stirring in soy sauce and salt. He returns to the counter to cover his vegetables and shrimp in the batter, before frying them and setting aside. He brings another pot to boil, dropping the noodles in to cook, before separating them into two bowls, pouring the soup in, and topping with the tempura. </p><p>He takes a step back, smiling to himself. He hears rustling from the front door, and Karasuma stumbles his way through, a sigh on his lips as he takes his shoes off and places down his stuff.</p><p>He doesn’t even seem to register Takayama’s presence, instead beelining to the couch and flopping on top of it.</p><p>Takayama is slightly amused. “I made dinner.” </p><p>The 20 year-old whips his head up at his roommate’s voice, peering into the kitchen to see the other standing next to two prepared bowls. “Huh?”</p><p>“It’s tempura udon.” </p><p>Karasuma clumsily sits up before making his way to the kitchen. “Really?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>His friend looks down at his bowl, and his tiredness and stress fades from his shoulders. “Woah, this looks good. Did you make this yourself?”</p><p>Takayama half-shrugs. “The noodles are pre-made.”</p><p>“Still,” Karasuma amends, “I burn cereal. This is restaurant level.” </p><p>“You haven’t tasted it yet, it could be terrible.”</p><p>“It’s not going to be terrible, Sou. Thank you for the meal,” Karasuma grabs his chopsticks, picking up a battered shrimp and taking a bite, letting out a sigh of content. “Wow, I needed this.” He gives Takayama a warm smile. It seems to go straight through Takayama’s heart, and Takayama can feel it beating faster, which is weird. Was he actually nervous Karasuma might not like it?</p><p>No matter. He picks up his own chopsticks.</p><p>Karasuma looks borderline smug as he takes a break from eating to look at his friend. “I can’t believe I finally get to see you eat. It was really annoying when you finished before I could ever look over.”</p><p>Takayama cocks an eyebrow. “You <em> were </em> very adamant about it.”</p><p>“Don’t act like you weren’t purposefully hiding it! I didn’t see you eat for almost four years! <em> Four!” </em></p><p>Takayama lets out a quiet snort as he remembers. He hadn’t really meant to hide it at first (he truly was a quick eater), but the more determined Karasuma got about it, some competitive part of Takayama kicked into gear and he actively made a game of it. For their entire highschool career, Takayama would find a way to eat before Karasuma could notice. They ate lunch together everyday, and Takayama would wait for something to distract him (a bird, another classmate, Karasuma himself, caught up in a rant) before scarfing his food down. Sometimes he’d eat too fast, which became evident with how his stomach would hurt afterwards, but he deemed it worth it when Karasuma would realize, and shriek in defeat.</p><p>He would have kept it up until even now, if he hadn’t messed up on the day of their high school graduation. Sagisawa had bought them all pizza, demanding the club have a graduation sleepover (Irene included, despite graduating the year prior). After lots of ridiculous games Takayama didn’t really understand, he had taken a bite of his pizza, not noticing his mistake until Karasuma screamed in victory, pumping his fist in the air, before pointing at Takayama: <em> “I finally won!”  </em></p><p>Something about seeing Karasuma so happy made Takayama not care about ‘losing’ that much.</p><p>Present-day Takayama takes a bite of his own food. “Mhm.”</p><p>They eat relatively quietly for their rest of their meal, occasionally making small talk or jabbing at each other playfully with their elbows. </p><p><em> I like this </em>, Takayama thinks. Another, similar thought tickles at the back of his brain, but it doesn’t surface. Instead, he focuses on the friend beside him, who catches him staring. The bellwether turns away, cheeks reddening, and Takayama curiously finds his own cheeks burning as well.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Recipe mainly inspired by Jun from JunsKitchen ! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iigDXgdKkuI</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Karasuma dreams, and tonight, he finds himself at the doorsteps of Takayama’s work. As if on auto-pilot, he opens the door, stepping into the garage. Karasuma had been inside a few times over the past year or so, so his dream was familiar enough. The desk was at the front, with the working area farther behind and to the right, even if the edges of it all are blurred. Karasuma quickly slides behind the desk, peering over the corner, into the garage, to see a black car with its hood up, and tools nearby. He doesn’t hear any tinkering, or any other sign of his roommate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sou?” He calls out, into the empty space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pair of arms appear from behind, wrapping themselves around Karasuma’s torso, causing him to squeak in surprise. His attempt to turn around is foiled by Takayama resting his chin on top of Karasuma’s left shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smells of oil and dirt. The proximity makes Karasuma’s brain short circuit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dream version of Takayama tilts his head slightly, his cropped spiky hair poking the other on the cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you bring something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma blinks, looks down for the first time to see the box in his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You forgot your lunch.” His subconscious replies. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Doesn’t Sou only work night shifts?</span>
  </em>
  <span> His logical brain asks, but his dream didn’t care, apparently. He turns out of Takayama’s grasp, who lets go willingly, and gently pushes the red box into his arms. “I was on my way to buy groceries, so I thought I’d stop by.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama stares at the neatly packaged box for a moment, before looking up with a smile, oil smeared on his cheeks. Karasuma refuses to make eye contact, and he knows he’s probably blushing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why does everything feel so...domestic?</span>
  </em>
</p><p><span>The next time he looks up Takayama is </span><em><span>right</span></em> <em><span>there</span></em><span>, forehead against his own, smiling warmly and holding onto Karasuma’s nervous hands. “Eishi,” he says, a tone dripping with fondness, and it causes Karasuma’s heart to flip in his chest. He’s heard Takayama say his name countless times over the past couple years, but it still sent electricity down his spine.</span></p><p>
  <span>And instead of thanking him, Takayama kisses him, chaste, but it still sends another jolt that shocks Karasuma awake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma reels forward, his whole face burning. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Seriously?!</span>
  </em>
  <span> It was already bad enough he was crushing every waking hour, but not even his </span>
  <em>
    <span>subconscious </span>
  </em>
  <span>was safe, it seemed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He groans, rolling over to snatch his phone up from where it laid on the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Great. 2 am.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He’s definitely not going to be able to sleep right now, so he might as well snack on something before attempting to dream without the appearance of his roommate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stumbles his way to the kitchen, and goes to flip on the light when he notices the fridge open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama, the real one this time, stands there, gripping the milk carton.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both freeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are...you drinking all the milk? At 2 in the morning…?” Karasuma would think he’d be embarrassed with running into Takayama so soon, but that takes a backseat to the happenings before him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama looks guilty as he holds onto the, now empty, milk carton. “I was thirsty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” He is </span>
  <em>
    <span>way </span>
  </em>
  <span>too tired for this.  He turns away, waving a hand at him. “I’m going back to bed. Just...pick up more tomorrow…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma doesn’t even look back, just walks down the short hallway to their bedroom, before collapsing on his bed again. He cannot believe he dreams of kissing Takayama of all people. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is a joke.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fuck, he’s tired. His attempts to go back to sleep were </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely</span>
  </em>
  <span> useless, and by the time 4 am rolled around Karasuma was still stuck glaring up at his ceiling. He gives up, pulling out his laptop to work on his essays due next week. By the time 6 am hits, and the alarm on his phone chirps out an ear-grating pop song (which he </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> chose because his alarm </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to annoy him awake),  Karasuma drags himself out of bed to take a shower, before heading off to his job. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three hours after he clocks in, Karasuma is basically bored out of his mind. It was a small grocery store hidden in some backstreet of Tokyo. Karasuma appreciated that it was so well hidden, as it minimized social interaction, but no customers also meant a smaller pay, which was more annoying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door jingles open, and Karasuma lifts his head from where he was nonchalantly sneaking in some phone time to see a teenager make a beeline for the snacks section. She pulls a few bags of chips off the rack, as well as a drink, before approaching the desk and placing everything down. Karasuma reaches for the first item to ring up, when the girl bluntly asks: “Hey, aren’t you Karasuma Eishi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never heard of him.” He replies, scanning the first bag. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?! He’s one of the Seven, you know, the ones that changed the whole world?!” She leans forward, eyebrows scrunching. “You’re totally lying! I’ve seen your face on the news, what are you doing working at a shitty grocery store?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Changing the world doesn’t pay the bills. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I told you, I’m not him. It’s a weird coincidence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can literally </span>
  <em>
    <span>see </span>
  </em>
  <span>your name tag, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma wishes he could bring the conversation to an end. Well, he technically could, the girl was undoubtedly a seraphim, but he had sworn off his brainwashing ability unless it was absolutely necessary. Like last month, when a dumb 18 year-old thought it would be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>genius </span>
  </em>
  <span>idea to use his ability to rob a small store, and just so happened to choose the </span>
  <em>
    <span>exact </span>
  </em>
  <span>one Karasuma worked at. That was an annoying night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I get your picture?” The girl pleads, ponytail hitting her in the face in her eagerness to grab a camera from her bag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll give you ¥550!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma hates that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>considers it for a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll pass. Your total is ¥1,000.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The teen huffs, before digging inside her purse for cash. “Can you at least tell me about Takayama?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ugh, seriously?! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” The annoying customer scrunches her nose up. “Don’t give me that look! He’s charming, okay?! I bet </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> would let me take his photo!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please get out of my store.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Karasuma puts on a fake smile, because he finally remembered that was something he had to do. “Have a nice day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She huffs, sticking her tongue out before leaving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma sighs into his hand, before looking up and staring at the shelves. Some feet away, red, prepackaged bento boxes sit. It takes Karasuma a second to realize what’s so familiar about them, his brain replaying his dream, with him pushing the package into Takayama’s arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes all the power within him not to slam his head onto the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few more people come and go; an elderly man, a single mother with two kids, a 13 year-old boy. Karasuma tries to stifle a yawn. The door chimes once more, and he looks to the right to see Umino walk in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi!!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, hi Tsubame.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grins, rocking her feet as she leans against the counter. “How’s the store today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma shrugs. “Same old. What are you even doing here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Umino grin is devilish. “Snack run! You’re the only store on this side of Tokyo that carries my favorite dessert snack, and my supply is running dry. It’s like a desert, Eishi!” She leans forward, hand next to her mouth for a dramatic, whispering effect. “I’m like, 99% sure Irene broke into my pile, which was very rude of her! If she wanted some she could’ve asked, y’know!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man can’t help but chuckle at his friend’s ridiculousness. “Well let me know if you need help finding it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The 19 year-old taps her forehead. “I’ve got this store practically memorized!” she proclaims with pride, before slinking into the aisles. Karasuma rolls his eyes, filled with affection as he is taken back to all the group trips to the store the Bird Club had had  over the years.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ei-chan, you have to let me get these!” A 16 year-old Kamoda begs, holding up a plastic bag of some type of sugary snack. “I haven’t seen these in stock since I was like, seven!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s not what we’re here to get, Kamoda.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh! Oh!” Umino pipes up, holding a bag of marshmallows. “What about these?!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You guys don’t need any more sugar!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s okay, I’ll pay.” Sagisawa laughs, snatching the bags from both Umino and Kamoda’s grasp. “You sure you don’t want to get anything, Karasuma?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sure.” He huffs, crosses his arms, and looks off to the side and tries to see where Takayama had gone. He stood at the end of the aisle, looking at something, before somehow sensing that Karasuma was looking at him. He looks up, before smiling in that way that made Karasuma feel like it was meant only for him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Present Umino drops at least 10 bags of her snack on the counter. “I found them!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma feels his eyes widen. “Aren’t you a college student? Since when do you have the money to buy this much sugary nonsense?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A girl has to have her priorities when budgeting.” She winks, handing over her money to her friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re impossible.” He shakes his head and continues swiping the bags under the bar code, calculating the total and completing the transaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you figured out what we’re gonna do for Sou’s birthday, yet?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma blinks. “I forgot that was coming up,” He admits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?! It’s two weeks from now!” She grabs the plastic bag with her items, then places her hands on her hips. “You’re his roommate, you have to at least try to plan something! Like maybe a surprise party!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’d probably see it coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought </span>
  </em>
  <span>that counts, Eishi. Have you not even gotten him a present?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll...figure something out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! I have an idea!” She’s suddenly animated, bringing her hands over her mouth in a gasp, “You should give him a Birthday Kiss!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-That’s not a thing, Tsubame!!!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’d still like it!!!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma can feel his cheeks burning. “You--stop meddling in my love life!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman lets out a bright laugh. “Aw, but it’s so fun!” She swings the plastic bag aimlessly. “This has been a blast, but I’ve gotta fly back home! Text me when you’ve figured out the details for Sou’s party! Bye!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you, I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>throwing a p</span>
  </em>
  <span>-” She’s already out the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma really does slam his head on the counter, this time.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>On his way out the door, Takayama exits his bedroom, before stopping to see Karasuma talking to his laptop. He hears familiar voices, and with his curiosity peaked, he quietly walks over. He peers over his friend’s shoulder. “Oh, hello.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Taka!” Barbara grins from her corner of the screen. “It’s been forever since we talked! How are you? How is it living with pipsqueak?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s going well.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s a Seven Meeting,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he remembers. “Were the others not able to make it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Saqr looks up from his Nintendo Switch. “Yep, just three of the seven this week.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not very Prince-like to be playing games during an important meeting, y’know.” Barbara quips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would put my switch down, if it weren't for the fact this ‘important meeting’ has so far been watching you two argue over the best cake flavor.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m right!” Karasuma swivels to look at his roommate. “Sou, which is better, chocolate or vanilla cake?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinks. “Chocolate?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re both wrong!” Barbara slaps a hand to her forehead. “If you want chocolate so badly, go eat a brownie! Vanilla cake is so much better!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still stand by my opinion that lemon cake is best.” Saqr hums, moving the joy cons of the switch offscreen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well you shouldn’t have asked for my opinion if you didn’t want my answer!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, you’re impossible! Adler wants chocolate too, but gah! I can handle everything else related to our wedding, but I’m caught up on cake batter of all things?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should alternate it.” Takayama shrugs. “If it’s a multi-tiered cake, you can switch between vanilla and chocolate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blegh, maybe.” Barbara scribbles something down on the notepad beside her. “I’ll have to run it by Adler and the baker, and we’ll probably have to figure something out for a nice, complimentary icing. What if I just didn’t have a cake!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cakes are important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know! I know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma rests his elbow on the armrest. “Isn’t it a bit early to order a cake?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, four to six months is the usual amount.” The 23 year-old tsks, scribbling something else down. “Do you know how many people I’ve had to intimidate so they don’t release my venue location to paparazzi? Too many!” She sighs, resting her cheek on her palm, before her phone sounds off. “Great, I have to take this, so I gotta bounce. Takayama, I better see you at my wedding or I’ll kick your ass!” She  smiles, before abruptly ending the call. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then there were three.” Karasuma grumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two.” Takayama corrects, “I have to leave for work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right.” Karasuma turns back to the laptop. “You can go too, Saqr, since the ‘meeting’ is basically over.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope we chat soon!” The man waves, cheerily, before his screen blinks out of view. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long are you working again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama heads toward the entrance. “I should be back tomorrow about 6 am. Do you need anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pick up some eggs, if you could.” He waves his hand as he shuts down his laptop. “Have a nice shift, Sou.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama smiles, before shutting the door to their apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thinks he’ll take a different flight route to work today. He left early enough to be able to, so he jumps into the sky, following the semi-familiar roads from up above. He takes a momentary break on a roof, peering over the vibrant city. The lights flicker and flash, and he can see people rushing down below, and he doesn’t think he could ever get tired of the view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns to leave, but stops briefly, as the place seems to itch at the back of his head. Something about it seems familiar, he tries to piece it together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His memories provide the answer, washing over him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right, he had a fight with Karasuma, here. Sometime during the period when they had arrived back in Tokyo, and they were still in the rough space they were stuck in before they were really okay again. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Takayama always felt like he understood Karasuma more than anyone, but he still confused him. Like he does now, as his friend shoves him bluntly in the chest with both palms. He’s not strong enough to make him stumble, but Takayama politely steps back anyways.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why can’t you think of yourself, for once?!” Karasuma hisses, hands balled up at his sides. “All you ever do is just focus on people’s ‘wishes,’ going so far as to almost wreck yourself in the process! You’re-,” He flails his hands in the air, “You’re the most infuriating person I’ve ever met, who’s not even selfish, or aware of what you even want!”  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Takayama blinks. “I want to help people.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That only causes Karasuma to throw his hands in the air, turning away for a moment before stomping back, basically face-to-face with the other: “This is exactly what I mean! You’re not just some winged genie!  For once in your life, try to remember you’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>alive</span>
  <em>
    <span>, and people actually care about you, asshole! You don’t even know your favorite color, Takayama!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Takayama doesn’t know what to say. Karasuma’s heaving, chest puffing in and out as his face flushes. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Up close, Takayama can see Karasuma’s eyes clearly: deep black, with small flecks of red floating in the iris. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Takayama’s voice comes out barely over a whisper: “It’s black.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Black eyes widen as Karasuma steps back, face an evident shade of dark red, Takayama doesn’t move, confused over his own beating heart and Karasuma’s expression. He doesn’t get it. He’s not sure if he ever would.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The 19-year old Takayama kicks back off into the sky, landing a minute later in front of his workplace. He was the only one on shift tonight, so he waves at his coworker clocking out, and disappears into the bathroom to detransform and switch over to his uniform.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama always did like tinkering with his hands, often fiddling away with objects and dismantling his toys as a kid. His curiosity had died out by the time he was in third grade--when his world shifted, it was hard to focus on anything for a while. His aunt tried to encourage him to get back into his old playtime habits, but all the dismantled lego pieces and copper wires did was remind him of torn limbs and bloody seats. His childhood picture books of bugs and reptiles only reminded him of the things that crawled out of the shadows, engulfing him if he didn’t fight back. He didn’t want to read or think about the things that haunted him, so he didn’t. He let go. The books stacked in the corner, the building sets and puzzles packed under the couch, and Takayama instead spent his time looking out the window, enjoying not being anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picked the hobby back up when he moved to Tokyo, deciding his old fascination could help him with his Grandfather, just long enough so he could get a proper job at some factory or the like. But that never really happened. He spent highschool helping his grandfather, tinkering away and fixing small clocks, and one day he was asked to fix up a car. He supposes he had a knack for it, the familiar bits and wires connecting and twisting together like a blackout, and Takayama could easily take a wrench to the problem and fix it like he’d done for years. The owner of the car had complimented him, pleased at how well he did for the first time, and offered him a job at his workshop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There weren’t many employees: it was mainly a small, family business run by the middle aged man who had inherited it from his father. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My kids aren’t interested in this kind of thing,” Mr. Tanaka had explained once, during a break. “My son is convinced he can be some sort of hero, and my daughter would rather take pictures of cars than tinker with them.” He’d pat Takayama on the back, soundly. “Keep up the good work.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The job paid well enough, and Takayama enjoyed the fact he worked at night, when all he had to focus on was the car above him and the sounds of the tools. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s about 3 am when Takayama realizes it’s his birthday.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a swig of his water, digesting that fact. He’s 20, now. A part of him can’t believe it, can’t believe he’s actually stayed alive this long. If you told 10-year-old him he would be here, 20 years old, working a job and living with his friend, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>roommate</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the young boy wouldn’t believe it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You have a friend?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Fifteen-year-old him would be shocked at the normalcy. On his fifteenth birthday he was in the middle of a European countryside, sitting in a field and thinking, listening, watching where the lights danced and led to the future of the world. When the world shook, Karasuma’s loud voice broke over the horizon and pushed its way into Takayama’s mind so hard he fell off the rock he had been sitting on. As Takayama lay on the dirt floor, listening to his friend cuss him out for must have been 10 minutes, he laughed. He laughed, slightly confused at his own outburst, but still with a genuine smile on his lips as Karasuma quieted down for a moment, before whispering a happy birthday, the rest of the bird club echoing faintly behind. He hadn’t noticed he was crying until he sniffled and instinctively rubbed his eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something about it made him feel like he was on top of the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When 5 am rolls around, Takayama’s shift comes to an end. He packs away his tools, jots a few notes in his head about what he needs to accomplish this project in two day’s time, before he sets off. He decides to walk, watching the morning creep in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a turn, coming up on Karasuma’s work, opening the door to peer in. He was expecting Karasuma to be at the counter, making a quip, but is instead greeted by one of his coworkers. Weird, he could’ve sworn Karasuma was working early today, but he supposes he’s remembered wrong. He grabs some eggs, as well as some butter, since he knows they’re almost out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cashier talks idly with him, ringing up his items before putting them in a small paper bag and letting Takayama pick it up and carry it out the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For his 18th birthday, the Bird Club had all gone camping. Summer break of their final year of high school gave them the perfect opportunity, and Umino had schemed up the whole endeavor. She had packed a duffel bag full of s'mores supplies, grinning and cackling as she hoisted it over her shoulder. Sagisawa was the least enthusiastic, complaining about how he’s had enough bugs in his hair to last a lifetime. Karasuma had merely poked fun at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I thought you’d be against camping.” Takayama hummed that night, pitching up the tent at their campsite. They had flown off into the mountains to camp.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ve been camping before, y’know.” Karasuma replied, stacking the sticks before the campfire. “I may like the indoors better, but still.” He struggles with keeping the light aflame, blowing on the flickering flame. The fire finally catches, licking its way up to the top, smoke starting to billow.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Karasuma rolls back onto his heels. “It’s really our last year of high school, huh?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“So it seems.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The shorter teen places a hand on his cheek. “Y’know, I really didn’t think this was how life would go, before I met you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Takayama takes a seat next to him. From afar, he can hear Umino and Irene laughing. “Do you regret it?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No,” Karasuma smiled, the lighting illuminating the side of his face, making his red eyes glow. “I don’t.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The apartment is dark, when Takayama opens the door at 6 am. His foot kicks something light, but he doesn’t register it until he flips the switch. His eyes are immediately adjusting to all the bright colors in his normally beige home, full with red balloons and a banner, in bold, enshrined with the words-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda and Umino pop out from around the corner, blowing on party horns. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Takayama blinks, stunned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a surprise party!” Umino cheers, running over to greet her friend, and plopping a cardboard hat on top of his spiked head. “Did we do it? Were you shocked?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I,” Takayama blinks at all the streamers and balloons. “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Umino lets out a whoop, before shutting the door and pushing Takayama further into his apartment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa laughs from the couch, taking a moment to finish strapping a hat on Tempest. Tempest barks excitedly, before perking up when she spots Takayama, then bouncing from the couch over to her owner, hat flopping off in the process.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama chuckles as he cups both sides of Tempest’s face and smushes them together. “Well aren’t you happy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma materializes from the kitchen, looking a bit frazzled. “You bought eggs, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama lifts the grocery bag. “And butter.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His roommate beams as he snatches the bag from the other. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Holy shit,</span>
  </em>
  <span> thank you.” Before dashing back into the kitchen, Takayama in tow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He peers over Karasuma’s shoulder as the shorter boy starts cracking the eggs. “Did you have me buy my own cake ingredients?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma smiles shyly. “I mean...we are roommates?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other responds by gently bumping shoulders with the other. “What flavor?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll just have to wait.” Karasuma sneers, tipping the glass so the four eggs slide into the bowl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama eyes the cocoa powder off to the side. Karasuma notices him staring, quickly batting it out of view behind the flour bag. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you have anything better to do instead of bugging me, birthday boy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Takayama affirms with a nod and a smile, not budging when Karasuma turns around to glare, the two basically butting chests.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t have to do anything for my birthday.” Takayama says, softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma scoffs, crossing his arms. “You say that every year. Can’t you just accept I like doing nice things for you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama maybe would have responded, but he instead stays silent, much more enjoying the moment between them. Karasuma has a bit of flour smudged against his cheek, and Takayama’s fingers twitch as if to brush it off, but-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The oven beeps, loud enough to startle Karasuma and realize what’s happening, who quickly places his hands on Takayama’s chest and shoves him back, cheeks flaring, “Your face is covered in motor oil.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama brings his hand up to thumb at his own cheek, looking down to see a darkened thumb. “Oh.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, ‘oh!’” Karasuma huffs, turning and grabbing the bowl before side-stepping out of reach. “Now, if you’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>excuse</span>
  </em>
  <span> me, I have a cake to make.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama takes that as his cue to leave, heading back out into the living room where his friends mess around with Tempest. Karasuma enters five minutes later, after having put the cake in the microwave oven.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Present time!” Irene sings, basically pushing Takayama onto his couch, then taking a seat on the opposite arm rest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama looks at the few boxes scattered around the room. “You guys didn’t have to get me anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too bad, we got stuff anyways!” Umino chirps, handing over a bright red present.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama hesitates, before carefully unwrapping it and pulling out a nice mug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I painted our seraph mark on it.” She grins, pointing at it. “Hand wash only!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irene hands over 2,500 yen with a grin. “I know you’re not the material type, so I’m just giving you cash.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama shrugs. “Cash works.” He places the two banknotes and coin in the mug, safely placing it on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa grins. “Okay, this a joint gift from me and Mikisada, but also this is beneficial for Eishi as well.” He pulls out a slightly large box from where it was hiding in the corner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just open it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay.” He takes off the neat bow, opening the cardboard box and peering inside. A low-rise glass table looks back. “A table?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It goes with the couch! Also, you guys don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>technically</span>
  </em>
  <span> have a table yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda nods. “Now you have somewhere to sit </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> eat!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very thoughtful, thank you.” Takayama smiles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma fiddles nervously from the entrance to the kitchen. “Okay, my turn.” He scurries past everyone, disappearing into their bedroom for a few moments, before returning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s plants,” Karasuma explains, setting one pot down, and the other in Takayama’s hands. “I saw you looking at them when we went shopping a while ago, and I know you really liked the outdoor area near your grandfather’s house. So, I got you some.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama looks at the potted succulent in his hand, as well as the growing braided tree beside him. Takayama’s chest feels like it’s about to burst, a persistent, warming feeling that spreads to his fingertips and causes the corners of his mouth to curl. “I love it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma’s smile is shyer, but matches his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the morning is a blur (setting up the new table, letting Irene pull him into playing a few games, helping Karasuma ice his own cake), and when everything is said and done, his friends out the door and on their way to class or work, Takayama shuts the door, feeling drained, but happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He trudges over to his couch, taking a seat next to Karasuma, who’s been slowly picking at his slice of dessert. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Happy birthday.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm.” Takayama mumbles, letting his head droop onto Karasuma’s shoulder, and promptly falling asleep.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Can I go with?” Takayama randomly blurts out one day, mid August.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma freezes with his hand on the door handle. “You want to go to my college classes with me…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His friend shrugs. “I don’t have anything to do today, and I’m curious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I,” Karasuma thinks for a moment. “I don’t even know if they’d let you in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama is already grabbing his coat. “I’m sure they won’t be paying attention.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably not, but, you’re going to be very bored.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama merely hums in acknowledgement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, okay.” Karasuma blinks, confused at the turn of sudden events. He opens up the door and starts treading down the metal stairs, Takayama trailing behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they arrive on campus, Takayama takes a moment to look around. “This is pretty big.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a bunch of tiny campuses squished together.” Karasuma shrugs, before pushing him along. “I’m going to be late for my Government class, so let’s hurry up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of his classmates liked to mind their own business, so no one seems to question it when a new face appears in the lecture hall. Takayama takes a tentative seat in the chair, watching as the professor walks up and starts to click through the PowerPoint. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma begins taking notes on his laptop, Takayama merely staring ahead, presumably zoning out. Karasuma tries not to roll his eyes at his friend. Seriously, why’d he even come with?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama busies himself by doodling on a spare sheet of paper, as well as a few sparse notes written around. Is he actually taking notes? </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s kinda cute.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Wait, shit, he needs to focus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When lunch rolls around after his next class, Karasuma stops at the local convenience store for some snacks instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you usually come here?” Takayama asks, stealing a chip from Karasuma’s bag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma shrugs. “Cheap, nearby, quick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He spots some of his classmates nearby, two girls whispering excitedly at each other and pointing in Takayama and Karasuma’s direction. Takayama flashes his palm in a quick hello, causing the two women to blush and shove each other out of the store. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ugh, he hates his classmates. Karasuma punches a straw through his drink a tad too aggressively. </span>
  <span>“What’s it like having so many people have a crush on you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama has the </span>
  <em>
    <span>audacity</span>
  </em>
  <span> to look confused. “Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean ‘huh’?! I swear most of the people we meet end up having an infatuation with you or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wild-haired man thinks about it for a moment. “I guess I never noticed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never really-</span>
  <em>
    <span>Seriously</span>
  </em>
  <span>?! You’ve been asked out dozens of times in high school!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Most were girls.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, most were girls, but guys, too! You turned everyone down, though.” Karasuma would know, because he was practically there for all of them. Takayama hung out with Karasuma all the time, so it only made sense that when Takayama got stopped on his way home, Karasuma would only be a few feet away, watching as whichever head-over-heels classmate confessed with their head down and some type of note or gift in hand. Each time Takayama would pause, politely tell them he didn’t feel the same, then catch up with Karasuma. Karasuma always had a hard time picking apart his feelings about it (Sympathy? Envy? Satisfaction that Takayama always chose him?).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Present Karasuma can’t tell if Takayama’s still confused or just plain-old amused. He cocks his head to the side. “Why do you care about that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Because I like you, asshole, and so does the rest of the world. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Karasuma scoffs. “No reason. It’s just annoying that you get asked out all the time, meanwhile I’ve never even been confessed to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His friend blinks. “Never?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Not everyone’s born with good looks and a mysterious charm about them, you know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama takes a swig of his water. “I think you’re good looking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shorter boy almost chokes on his drink. “Stop sparing my feelings.” He frowns, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama frowns slightly. “I’m not. Has no one ever mentioned it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unless you count my mother, then no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama seems to take a moment to process this. Karasuma’s a bit over it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sou, I don’t feel like standing in this 7/11 for an hour.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seems to snap Takayama out of whatever he was thinking. He catches up with the other, going to grab his hand. Karasuma’s ears were already burning, but now he’s sure they were bright red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama’s always had a habit of holding Karasuma’s hand. It was something that’s been happening ever since they met, and Karasuma still, after five years, is not a hundred percent used to it. (It doesn’t happen as often as it used to, which Karasuma refuses to admit he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>slightly</span>
  </em>
  <span> upset about.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their highschool allowed kids to go and eat on the roof, so Takayama had to find a new spot to drag Karasuma to during the day without worrying about others. His solution was a large tree right by the courtyard, branches </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> far apart enough that most couldn’t climb it, unless you were Takayama Sou. Karasuma doesn’t want to think of all the scrapes and bruises he’s endured from Takayama suddenly dragging him up into the tree top during lunch hours, just so they’d have somewhere to chill. Even when they were both up on the same branch, Takayama wouldn’t let go of Karasuma’s hand. And Karasuma didn’t fight it. So they would eat their lunch in relative peace (or maybe just Karasuma would, with how Takayama </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> seemed to have an empty box when he looked over), and Takayama would always seem a bit more content with the world. Karasuma sometimes wonders what would’ve happened if he had taken the risk to kiss him (they would probably have fallen out of the tree, if he were being realistic).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eishi,” Takayama says again, for the third time in a minute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When’s your next class?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! It’s, uh,” He goes to grab his phone with his free right hand. “Shit, 15 minutes from now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama nods, “We should hurry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you like campus life?” Karasuma blurts, on their way over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His friend hums in consideration. “It’s interesting. Not really for me, but it’s interesting.” He looks over to where students are hanging out on a hill that leads to a lake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that different from high school,” Karasuma continues. “There’s an engineering program, you’d probably like it. I know you have a knack for physics.” Annoyingly, Takayama would often be the one tutoring him, instead of the other way around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really, it’s just easier to relate the problems with flying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, my next class is math, anyways, so you could maybe keep up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma can tell Takayama cannot keep up. There are some moments where he looks close to figuring out what they’re talking about, but then the professor will write the next line of the calculus proof down, and Takayama would be lost again. Karasuma can't help but to quietly chuckle at it. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A seventeen year old Karasuma takes a seat next to Takayama. “Did you even study for the test?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His friend blinks, obviously having just woken up from a nap from last period. “We have a test?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, over definite integrals.” He takes out his pencil. “I’m sure you’re going to ace it anyways.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I just want to nap again.” Takayama responds, stretching his arms forward, and lays his head down until the teacher clears her throat and places the sheet in front of him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They both get a 91. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“How do you even do it?!” Karasuma grumbles, “I actually studied for this!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Takayama merely shrugs as he takes a drink of his water. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Karasuma tried to compare what they both missed. “You could probably get into a good college with these scores.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not going.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Karasuma pauses. “You’re not applying to any colleges?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His friend rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not really for me. I’d rather work and do something than wait four more years.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m relieved I’m done with math,” Takayama announces, the second they step out of the lecture hall. “I think I fell asleep, a few times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did,” Karasuma rolls his eyes, batting his roommate lightly on the shoulder. “I had to elbow you awake so you wouldn’t snore in class.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama blinks. “I snore?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As someone that’s lived in the same apartment as you for the past few months? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You talk in your sleep.” He replies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What-I do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do. I woke up this morning to hear you mumbling about squirrels.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma desperately tries to remember his dream. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Squirrels</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Squirrels.” The other nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma lets out a small laugh. “Well, okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama decides to hang back for the next two classes, instead squatting beside the building as Karasuma stays inside and works diligently on his speech for Communications. When he walks out, Takayama is nowhere to be seen. His eye twitches, but Takayama disappeared often enough anyways, usually to rescue cats from a tree, or escort ducks across the road. Karasuma enters the building across from the one he left, looking around the white hallway and its pristine posters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He passes by the gym area, before he backs up immediately because </span>
  <em>
    <span>Takayama is inside</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and how the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> did Takayama even get in without a </span>
  <em>
    <span>card-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Takayama greets, as Karasuma barges in. “Sorry, I got bored.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you decided to work out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods. “Exercise is important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that.” Karasuma grumbles. He refuses to let his brain process the fact Takayama is lifting heavy weights, and could probably lift two Karasumas with no problem. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you use the gym here often?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...No.” He’s pretty sure he’s never even been in here before. He catches Takayama’s look. “And don’t even try lecturing me! I’m busy, okay! I’m lifting mental weights, I don’t need to practice my kicks!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama sets aside the weights he was using. “You can come with me to an actual gym, sometime.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t make me. I can’t compete with everyone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You used to be able to, in high school,” He points out. Which was true. During high school, the bird club had also basically doubled as an exercise club, with the jocks of the group organizing different ways to </span>
  <span>torture him</span>
  <span> keep everyone in shape. Umino was a fan of games like soccer or tennis, Kamoda had them all running, and Irene was all about sparring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma winces thinking of all the times he’s been grabbed and flipped onto the hard mat by Irene over the years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dismisses Takayama with a wave. “Whatever, I’m done with classes for the day, anyways. We can go home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, Takayama points over to a few brightly colored mats. “Up for a match?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shorter man glares. “You know you’ll win.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a good chance. If I lose, I’ll pay for dinner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma thinks on it, before sighing, dropping his bag against the wall, and tying his jacket around his waist. “Fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He positions his bare feet on the mat, going into the familiar stance. “It’s been a couple years, so don’t make fun of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama mirrors his position, then grins. “I won’t,” he moves swiftly, and Karasuma’s instincts take over and he dodges the hit to his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cheap shot!” He growls, attempting to kick Takayama in the side, but Takayama is already moving, ducking out of the way by rolling. Karasuma dances out of the way before Takayama thinks of swiping him with a low kick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve still got it.” Takayama calls, hands on his knees as he bounces back up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma refuses to respond,  focusing instead on trying not to lose the match. A few hits and dodges later he spots an opening, and tries to throw a punch, but Takayama catches it in his palm, grabbing Karasuma’s other wrist in the process. Karasuma only plays a little dirty when he kicks his friend in the shin, hard enough his grip loosens on his wrist slightly, so he can then hit Takayama in the chest with his own arm, getting both of his hands free with the motion. The momentum throws them both back, but Takayama only teeters for a second, using the rotation to grab the back of Karasuma’s leg like a wrestler and knock him off balance and onto his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damnit!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama looks triumphant as he takes a seat on the opposite side of the mat. “I win.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t rub it in, asshole.” Karasuma rotates his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It looked like you were having fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolls his eyes. “I was until I </span>
  <em>
    <span>lost</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Best 2 out of 3?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma’s already getting up.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s sparring day!” Irene yells, pushing the rolled up mat fully onto the roof. “We’ll set up a rotation, where the winner stays in the ring until they lose.” She points at herself. “Here’s the order: Me, Tsubame, Rei, Sou, Mikisada, Eishi.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sounds fun!” Umino grins.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sounds painful.” Karasuma mumbles. He takes a seat next to Takayama as he watches the first of the round begin. Umino relies heavily on her kicks, while Irene uses her flexibility to dodge and weave. It only takes a few minutes before Irene knocks the other girl off balance, landing her on her side with a thump. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sagisawa gets on next, taking a hesitant stance in the proper form. “Make it quick,” He pleads, which causes Karasuma to snort out a laughter from the side. The brunet yelps as he dodges a punch aimed his way, using the momentum to crouch and sweep his leg under, but Irene easily jumps it. Sagisawa and her spar for a few more moments, and when Irene avoids a punch from him, she grabs his arm and hurls him over her shoulder, his back slamming against the mat, causing Karasuma to wince. She grins down at him “Give yourself more credit, stringbean!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Say that to my bruised ego,” Sagisawa groans. He rolls off of the mat and continues to lay on the ground. “I hate sparring.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Takayama stands, stepping onto the mat. Irene finishes stretching, wasting no time in lunging at the other. Takayama side steps past, and the two go back and forth, trading blows. Irene is quick on her feet, athletic and not afraid, while Takayama is solid, moving with instinct and using brute strength to win. A swift hit five minutes later ends with Irene on the ground, laughing and clasping her friend’s hand in respect, before hopping off.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kamoda steps onto the mat, and doesn’t last long. While both teens use strength as their weapon, Takayama has speed on his side, allowing him to easily grab and flip Kamoda, ending the match before it began. The taller teen lets out a loud laugh, rolling off and sitting up in a squat, pumped for another go.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Takayama’s eyes meet Karasuma’s.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>20 year-old Karasuma knocks Takayama onto his ass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smirks. “Guess I won this round.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama hops back onto his feet. “Lucky shot.” He adjusts his stance before diving back in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma can’t help but grin as he dodges the punch, and attempts to counter it. Takayama doesn’t flinch this time when Karasuma tries to kick his way to victory, and the two tussle until they’re face-to-face, close enough their noses almost touch, each with a hand on the other’s wrist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re at an impasse,” Karasuma breathes, trying not to blush at their proximity. Takayama looks at him, red eyes boring into him, until he starts to move forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The mat is cold against the 17 year-old’s bare feet, but he tries to assume a proper stance like Kamoda’s taught him many times over. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They wait a moment before the match officially begins, Takayama swooping down to knock the other’s feet from under him, but Karasuma quickly steps away and tries to kick him down. They clash a few times before they bounce back, circling around each other on the mat. Takayama freezes for a moment, causing Karasuma to lock up and brace as Takayama suddenly bursts towards him. Right as Takayama grabs his arm, Karasuma attempts to move away, but his foot snags on Takayama’s, tripping him, but sending them both sprawling to the ground.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ow.” Takayama’s voice is muffled, his face pressed into the concrete.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Karasuma blinks, registering the fact he’s sitting next to his friend, Takayama’s hand still gripping his arm.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Is that a tie?” Sagisawa snorts from the side. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Takayama shifts, properly sitting up, wiping at his bloody nose. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Irene looks thoroughly amused. “Well, since Eishi is the one technically still on the mat, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and</span>
  <em>
    <span> Sou’s nose is bleeding, I think loudmouth here may have snatched up the win.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Takayama makes a face, pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the bleeding. His voice sounds slightly reedy. “I want a rematch.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Present Takayama sends Karasuma sprawling onto the floor. The twenty year old huffs, rolls into a sitting position, nursing his forehead from where Takayama headbutted him. “Asshole!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama smiles, cheeks slightly red, most likely from adrenaline. He offers him a hand. “Wasn’t against the rules.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the worst.” He spits back, taking his friend’s hand and pulling himself up. “Whatever, fair’s fair. What do you want for dinner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama picks up Karasuma’s bag from the side of the room. “Ramen?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma rolls his eyes, taking the bag and pushing them both out of the gym. “Yeah, alright.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When the leaves start turning, Takayama can tell that fall has really begun. He has no problems with the season, but he vastly preferred spring over autumn. Autumn was full of death, and Takayama has had enough death to last him years. But you can’t have spring without autumn, death without rebirth, so he supposes he’s okay with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Autumn also meant Halloween, and Takayama’s friends seem to be enjoying the festivities. A week earlier Sagisawa had declared that on that fateful day he’d be throwing a party for the Bird Club,stressing that they </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to come in costumes (much to Karasuma’s dismay). </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And no half-assing it, you guys!” He points directly at Takayama.  “If you wear that ‘this is my costume’ T-shirt again, I’m going to burn it!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Takayama frowns. That’s the closest to a costume he had.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma wasn’t having much luck, either. He groans as he raids his wardrobe for ideas. “All I have are hoodies and sweatshirts, how am I supposed to create something out of these?! I refuse to actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>buy </span>
  </em>
  <span>a costume from a store!” He keeps looking, continuing to cuss Sagisawa out from under his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama shrugs from the door, taking a sip from his cup of tea, “You could transform your wingmass into something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who am I, Irene?! Ugh, Sagisawa-that </span>
  <em>
    <span>bastard</span>
  </em>
  <span>-is going to be insufferable if I don’t think of something!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama doesn’t pay him any mind, slinking back to the kitchen. He hears Karasuma bellow an “AHA!,” followed by more rummaging, so he assumes he’d  thought of something. His roommate momentarily reappears from their room to dig out some white paint, swipe a bag from the counter, and disappear into the bathroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a solid 10 minutes, Takayama takes a look at the clock, and decides he might as well change. He was already transformed into his wingmass (he usually is, on his days off from work), and thinks for a moment, playing around with shifting the material. Karasuma was right--none of them were as skilled as Irene by any stretch, but he could still try. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moments later, Karasuma rattles the bathroom door open, and Takayama looks up to see him stepping out fully in costume. “I’m done messing with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It looks like Karasuma found an old T-shirt from highschool (Black, but with a printed skeletal ribcage on the front) and paired it with sweatpants that had skeletal legs painted on top. “I really liked these pants, you know.” Karasuma scrunches his nose up, drawing attention to the fact he had also painted a skull on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma rolls his eyes at the other. “Stop staring, I bought face paint the other day. I’m not dumb enough to put acrylic paint on my skin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama didn’t even know he had been staring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma turns back to the mirror for a second. “Ugh, I look ridiculous. Anyways, what’d you decide on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama blinks, looking down at his work-in-progress costume. He thinks for a moment, before he forms a mask with two pointed ears. “Batman.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You-” His friend takes a moment to process it. “I hate that you’re going to get away with this.” Karasuma goes to grab his black jacket and white gloves. “Fine, let’s head over. I’m not transforming, so we’re going to walk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama frowns. That will take 15 minutes, if they trek by foot. Which would be silly, since he’s already completely transformed. Which is why when the two walk down to the parking lot, Takayama wastes no time in scooping Karasuma into his arms, despite the sudden shriek Karasuma lets out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I literally </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>said we’d walk!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s faster this way.” Takayama nods. He jumps into the air, and begins flying   towards the apartments.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Being carried by Batman is not how I thought my night would go...” Karasuma grumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama lightly places Karasuma down, who huffs as he tries to fix his hair. He can see Sagisawa waving at them both from his floor. “You guys actually dressed up!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We didn’t get a choice!” Karasuma yells back, starting the trek up the flight of stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa grins when they make it to his floor, fake vampire teeth flashing as he does a dramatic pose to show off his outfit (a black and red Victorian gothic coat and vest, paired with  a fancy, intricate cane). “I like your outfit Eishi! Sou’s is a little lazy, but I’ll take what I can get.” He flings an arm over Karasuma as he begins to walk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t remember the last time we had a Halloween party, can you?!” Sagisawa beams, before throwing the door open. Fake fog begins to billow out into the hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really, you didn’t have to go all out.” Karasuma squints inside, to the darkened hallways lined with tombstones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re no fun!” Sagisawa sighs. “Just head inside so we can start!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma rolls his eyes at Takayama, before taking a step in. The apartment immediately flares to life, the tombstones bursting into light and sound, with electronic screams sounding off that has Karasuma shrieking and stumbling backwards into Takayama.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa punches the air behind them “Yesss! You fell for it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma lets out an annoyed groan before grabbing Takayama’s wrist and stomping forwards into the apartment properly this time. Takayama can’t help but chuckle lightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The entirety of the Kamoda-Sagisawa living space is decked out, black and orange and green streamers flying about, with hanging decorations of bats, witches, and more. Irene greets them with a raise of her goblet, a fake skeleton next to her with its arm around her shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you supposed to be?” Karasuma asks, picking up a goblet of his own from the kitchen counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irene points at her eyepatch. “Pirate, duh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Umino looks up from where she sits in a blue shirt and pants, writing at the small table. “I’m Steve from Minecraft.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s Minecraft?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl gasps. “It’s a video game! Sou, I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>forcing</span>
  </em>
  <span> you to come hang out next week so I can make you play. It’s so fun!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda emerges from the kitchen, holding a tray of appetizers. He grins, his cat ears falling a bit in front of his face. “Yay! We’re all here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa giggles as he snatches something from the plate his boyfriend’s holding. “Okay, here’s what I’m thinking: we play a few games, we dine, then we binge a few horror movies. I wanted to try and summon some ghosts, but Mikisada pooh-poohed me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I may be hard to kill, but I’m not trying to push my luck, okay!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irene kicks her feet up on the table. “So, what games are we thinking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa grins. “Mao.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mao?” Takayama blinks from the side, but Karasuma lets out a loud groan, which confuses him more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mao is suffering, can’t we choose a different game?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re just bitter you haven’t figured out all the rules, Eichan!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know how many years it took to figure out Rei’s shitty ‘scratch your head when a spade is played’ rule?! Two years!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s Mao?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma adjusts his jacket. “It’s a card game where you have to get rid of your cards, but you have to remember the assigned rules for playing it. It is torture and I hate it and I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>going</span>
  </em>
  <span> to kick Rei’s ass for real this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa lets out a demonic chuckle as he hops over the back of the couch. “I’ve had a winning streak for the past 8 games, bring it on!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It turned out there was a rule for Mao where you could not tell new players the rules. Which means, by the end of the game, Takayama still has </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely no clue</span>
  </em>
  <span> what’s going on. He has practically half of the deck in his hands by the time Sagisawa places his last card, triumphantly performing all five rules attached (Takayama only catches one). Karasuma throws his card (</span>
  <em>
    <span>“One card! I had one card left!”</span>
  </em>
  <span>) at his friend’s head, demanding a rematch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Having fun?” Umino grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no idea.” Takayama responds, honestly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Umino flashes the side of her phone at him. “I’ve written down all the rules in my notes app so I don’t forget.” She winks. “It’s only slightly cheating, but hey, I made the rule for checking your phone on numbered cards!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irene wins the next round of Mao, leaving Sagisawa dethroned , and Karasuma still infuriated over his narrow loss. The round after, Umino wins, and she happily takes her victory while chugging her drink and tossing a few chips in her mouth. Takayama thinks he’s gotten most of the rules down, but he’s still taken enough penalties to kick him out of any sports game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s next?” Kamoda calls, taking a sip from his goblet. “I can only handle Eishi screaming over losing so many times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Truth or Scare?” Umino giggles, reaching for her drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was on the list!” Sagisawa grins, hopping up to his feet to retrieve a pitcher from the fridge. “Okay, here are the rules: basic truth or dare, except if you refuse to do it, you have a penalty. Your penalty?” He lifts the pitcher up, sloshing the purple liquid around. “You have to drink the mystery concoction. This was my attempt at a punch, and it is </span>
  <em>
    <span>nasty</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda grimaces. “I thought you said you were going to dump that out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Change of plans!” He returns to his seat. “Tsubame, since you won, you get to start us off by choosing your victim.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman grins, readjusting her position to face her friend. “Truth or scare, Irene?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Truth.” The twenty-one year-old replies, throwing a leg over the other. “You come up with terrible dares, so I’ll pass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Booo! I had a good one, too!” Umino pouts. “Fine, now tell me, do you break into my snack pile?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blue haired woman gasps. “I knew it! You’ve been denying it for </span>
  <em>
    <span>months</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sue a gal for getting hungry!” Irene laughs. “You basically have a mountain of snacks you squirrel away!” She dodges the pumpkin plush aimed at her head, before pointing at Takayama. “Truth or scare?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scare?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmmmm,” she thinks for a moment, before snorting loudly. “Okay, okay. Sou, I dare you to only flirt with people for the rest of the party. If you don’t, you drink!” She grabs an empty cup and pours some of the juice inside, sliding it over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda lets out a loud bout of laughter, while Takayama cocks his head. “I don’t know how to flirt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s why it’s going to be fun!” Umino hides a smile behind her laugh. “You can throw in a compliment or a pet name, and it’ll count. Have fun with it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I just drink now?” He reaches for the cup Irene had pushed over, taking a sip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is, by far, the worst thing he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> tasted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He coughs, thumping his chest as he tries to get it down. He’d rather just take the dare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’d you even put in there?!” Karasuma balks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa lets out a strained laugh. “Man, I don’t even know. Anyways, Sou, it’s your turn, try to think of something or you drink!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama takes a moment, scrunching his nose up as he tries to think with the aftertaste in his mouth. He turns to look at Karasuma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, truth or scare,” He glances at Irene to see her eyebrow raise before looking back at his roommate. “...babe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma’s face immediately flushes a bright red, even with the face paint on, and Takayama can hear Umino screaming with laughter from where she sits. His roommate ducks away, silently cursing Irene, and avoids direct eye contact with Takayama. “Truth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama has absolutely no clue what to ask. He looks around for a moment, before quietly pulling out his phone from his wingmass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma looks over. “What are you doing?” Takayama almost replies, until he remembers his dare. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa peaks from over his shoulder. “He’s looking up ‘Flirty Truth Or Dare Questions.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma almost falls forward. “You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>googling</span>
  </em>
  <span> it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s googling it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda tackles Sagisawa over while trying to peer at Takayama’s screen. “I want to know what pops up!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just choose one!” Irene laughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Umino takes another chip from the table. “Go basic, if anything!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your favorite thing about yourself?” Takayama clicks out of the tab. “I like your hair.” He blurts out a second after, to keep the dare up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma blinks, before reaching to grab a strand of his black bangs. “Really? Um,” He shifts from where he sits on the floor, “I like that I’m smart?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama nods. “There’s a lot to like about you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watches as his roommate's ears burn, grabbing for his normal drink and chugging. Takayama thinks he might like seeing Karasuma flustered, and the realization has him frowning, trying to piece together why. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment vanishes as Karasuma wipes his mouth and pointedly asks Sagisawa his questions, then daring him to chug the whole container of penalty punch. Takayama laughs so hard he gets hiccups.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Horror movies are kind of boring. Takayama doesn’t quite get the appeal of them, as his heart really doesn’t get that adrenaline pump the others say happens when the music kicks up and the killer arrives. He’s used to this, over the bird club’s many horror movie marathons over the years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The music onscreen reaches a crescendo, and screams ring out.  Sagisawa jumps so hard the popcorn flies everywhere. Karasuma lets out a small laugh, and plucks a few kernels out of Takayama’s spiky hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like your laugh.” Takayama whispers. Pieces of popcorn fly at his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to flirt with me, the game’s over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irene takes a sip of her drink. “Game’s not over until the party’s over!” She tosses a pillow at Karasuma’s head. He flings it back and misses, hitting the skeleton hard enough that its head spins around with a rattle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t go in the basement!” Kamoda screams, not paying attention to the chaos his friends are wrecking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Umino grips the blanket on her lap. “She can’t die, she’s the main character!” She squeaks when the jumpscare plays, as the axe-wielding maniac chases the character up the stairs, chopping the door in half when she tries to slam it shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama finds himself losing interest, picking up a slice of pizza and taking a bite as the girl in the movie narrowly avoids getting her head chopped off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why is she running like that?” Kamoda questions, taking his 5th slice of the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, early 2000’s movies are just like that.” Sagisawa replies, throwing his legs over his boyfriend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I bet she’s gonna trip over nothing in a moment.” Irene calls, followed by the prediction being played out on screen. “Boom! Called it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She will be missed.” Kamoda nods, reaching for his sixth slice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two movies later, and Takayama wakes up from a nice nap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon.” Karasuma sighs, grabbing onto his hand and pulling him up. “I’d like to pass out in my own bed, thank you very much, and I kinda need the key.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama blinks, taking a moment to stretch his arms behind his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for coming!” Sagisawa grins, holding up Aia and waving at everyone with her furry paw. “Get home safely!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama raises his hand in farewell, before following the others down the steps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma turns to him once they reach the parking lot. “I suppose you’re not going to let us walk back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s already unfurling his wings. “Nope.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, fine.” He tugs his sleeves onto his gloves minimizing the chance of contact, and awkwardly waits for Takayama to grab him and take off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like I need to sleep for fifty years,” Is the first thing Karasuma says when they land. “How do people go partying all the time? I just don’t have the energy for it,” He yawns, starting up the small flight of stairs. He unlocks their door, opening it up to look back at Takayama.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> It takes him a moment to realize he hasn’t moved from the top of the stairs. A gust of wind blows, causing some of Karasuma’s hair to blow in front of his eyes as he cocks an eyebrow, a smile on his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the cold, Takayama suddenly feels very warm. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Karasuma is not a dog person. However, Tempest </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>undeniably cute. She usually sleeps in her crate (Takayama has already trained her to walk in there on command), however, sometimes she likes to sneak out and sleep in the bedroom. And since Takayama works a lot of night shifts, Karasuma finds himself waking up to a growing puppy at the foot of his bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like this morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he shifts to get up, she immediately perks up, trodding over to lay in his lap and sniff his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> He gently pushes her away, though she still tries to continue to sniff. “Good morning to you, too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their early morning routine has already settled in, and Karasuma gets up to pour Tempest a bowl of kibble, placing it on the floor next to her crate while he takes a shower. By the time he gets out, gets dressed, and walks out she’s done, laying on the couch with a toy in mouth. Karasuma scratches her head, before going to make himself some coffee. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t have work until later in the afternoon, meaning he can get a start on his homework. Karasuma sits down next to Tempest (who squeaks her toy in greeting), before he pulls out his laptop and gets to work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Around 7 am, Takayama gets back, tossing his keys on the table, waving at Karasuma, who waves back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama has also settled into a routine: he’ll disappear into the shower, emerge 15 minutes later, and then nap for a solid 30. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the meantime, Karasuma hooks a leash onto Tempest’s collar, taking her outside on a walk so she can exercise and go to the bathroom. Despite the chilly November air, it’s quite nice out, so Karasuma decides to take her on a longer walk, past a small park. Tempest leaps in front of him (still trying to understand that </span>
  <em>
    <span>Karasuma</span>
  </em>
  <span> walks </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not the other way around). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After being dragged around for fifteen minutes, he stops on his way back, heaving as Tempest decides to investigate an intriguing rock on the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I pet your dog?” An excited voice rings from across the street. Karasuma turns to see a teenage girl grin at him, and when she spots who it is, a flash of recognition sparks in her eyes, and she dashes over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma has no clue who this is. “Uhh, sure.” The 15 year-old smiles wider, her ponytail swishing as she squats down and starts cooing nicknames at the puppy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes Karasuma a moment to piece together why she’s familiar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re that girl from the store.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl pouts. “I have a name, you know! I’m Tanaka Chiho!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d give you my name, but you already know it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grins impishly while Tempest continues to wiggle in her arms. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tempest, you traitor!</span>
  </em>
  <span> “That I do! Your dog’s so cute, by the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s not my dog.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Is she your giiiiirlfriend’s~?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, she’s my boyfr-roomate’s.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, did he actually almost say boyfriend? Get a hold of yourself, Eishi! </span>
  </em>
  <span>“She’s my roommate’s dog.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tanaka doesn’t hesitate. “Sounds like you almost said boyfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard the slip-up! Who’s the famous Karasuma dating?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not dating anyone!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lies!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma taps the sole of his sneaker against the concrete, irritated. “Y’know, you’re annoyingly confident to be able to talk to a Bellwether.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She purses her lips. “You’re too nice to do anything!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ugh, it’s true. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She digs in her phone pocket. “Hey, can I take a picture of you and your dog?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awww, c’mon! I’m sure your boyfriend would like it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma pinches the bridge of his nose. “For the last time, Sou is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> my-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tanaka basically jumps to her feet. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>TAKAYAMA SOU IS YOUR BOYFRIEND?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“DON’T YELL IT!” Karasuma shrieks, his whole face flushing red. He clears his throat, looking around the empty area before harshly whispering: “We’re not dating. We’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>roommates</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aww, you don’t need to lie, I won’t tell anyone!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not lying. Are you done petting my dog?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought she was Takayama’s dog?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma ignores the teenager, opting instead to scoop Tempest up into his arms. Tanaka pouts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure I can’t take a picture of you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma sighs. “Will you stop asking if I say yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tanaka practically squeals. “Yes! Oh man, if only I brought my proper camera, but I guess I’ll have to opt for my phone.” She fumbles with her green phone case for a few seconds, eyes sparkling. “Here, say cheese!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma does not say cheese, much less smile, but Tempest has enough joyous energy for the both of them. Tanaka shows him the picture, and Karasuma has to admit, it looks nice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you!” She beams, putting her phone in her bag. “I like photography.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I’ve gathered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tanaka smiles, before her phone pings a notification. “Shit, I gotta run! Thank you for letting me pet your dog!” She gives a little wave to the puppy before bolting off down the road.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma sighs, looks at Tempest. “Do you think it’s too late to quit being famous?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tempest blinks in reply. Karasuma lets her down and lets her lead them back to their apartment complex, where Karasuma unlocks the door and lets Tempest bound inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning.” Takayama greets, taking a sip of tea from his mug. “How was the walk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma thinks back to the encounter he just had. “Boring,” He lies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His roommate raises an eyebrow, but takes another sip of his tea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The word boyfriend echoes around in Karasuma’s head, and he decides he should focus on his homework, instead of thinking about the way Takayama looks at him, or the way his smile causes Karasuma’s heart to start beating double-time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s out the door a few hours later, working his shift, and by the time it ends, Takayama has already left for work again. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Takayama enters their apartment, shutting the door with the sole of his foot and dropping his keys into a small dish--gifted by Umino to Karasuma--nearby. He takes off his winter coat, necessary due to the December weather.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m home,” he calls out to the apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hey. You’re home early.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got sent back because of maintenance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” Karasuma acknowledges from somewhere inside. “I’m in the middle of making food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama peers from the living room into the kitchen, where his friend tosses vegetables in a pan and swirls them around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a bit late to cook dinner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can feel the eyeroll from here. “I forgot to eat. When I looked up from my textbook it was already midnight, so I thought I might as well start dinner for the both of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama smiles at that. “Well, thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh. Just go set up so we can eat soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama takes a couple bowls from up in the cupboard, placing them next to his roommate. He then grabs some chopsticks, napkins, and two glasses, carrying them out to the low-rise table by their couch. Tempest barks from her cage, so Takayama squeezes his fingers past the bar to pet her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their kitchen was definitely one of the smallest rooms in the apartment, narrow like a hallway. The refrigerator lies to the right of Karasuma, currently blocking the path. Usually, Takayama would just ask for Karasuma to grab a few drinks from it, but he was busy cooking, and Karasuma always required “extreme concentration”-or so he would gripe-or else he’d definitely burn everything. So Takayama mumbles a brief “‘Scuse me” as he passes behind Karasuma and opens up the fridge, not even registering when his hand lands on his roommate's left hip for balance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma jumps at the contact, inhaling sharply as part of his palm </span>
  <em>
    <span>thwaps</span>
  </em>
  <span> against the hot iron, before he lets out a high pitched, strained “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He drops the pan, fanning his hand, and Takayama’s brain goes into hero mode, already grabbing the other's wrist and yanking him across the kitchen to the sink, turning the faucet on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sou</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I can </span>
  <em>
    <span>handle</span>
  </em>
  <span> it,” Karasuma assures, attempting to tug his wrist out of the other’s grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama doesn’t answer, still holding onto Karasuma’s wrist as he inspects the damage. Karasuma’s cheeks burn, his nose scrunching up makes Takayama’s heart beat a bit faster over the adrenaline. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s only a first-degree burn.” He looks over to Karasuma before reaching over to the small medicine drawer nearby. “Does it still hurt?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama lifts the reddened hand out of the water. “It should fully heal by the time we’re in Germany next week,” He says, before gently applying a layer of petroleum jelly to the wound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma grimaces. “Great.” He pivots, wrist still held, killing the heat on the pan. “At least all I burned was my hand, not the food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other merely </span>
  <em>
    <span>tsks</span>
  </em>
  <span> instead of replying, a blush on his cheeks as he finally succeeds in freeing his left hand from Takayama’s. “Just, go shower. I’ll have the food set up by the time you’re out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put some bandages on your hand.” Takayama replies, before doing what he’s told, disappearing around the corner and into their bathroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fifteen minutes later, rid of the dirt and grime from working at the shop, Takayama re-emerges from the hallway.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fried rice sits neatly divided into their respective bowls-a red and black one, another courtesy move-in gift from their friends. Takayama casually sits on their shared couch, Karasuma with a cup in his newly-bandaged hand.  His laptop and textbook are already propped open, and Karasuma doesn’t even glance at him, only continues typing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama smiles softly to himself, thanking Karasuma for the food-Karasuma merely lets out a acknowledging hum-before picking up his chopsticks and starting to dig in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When’s the paper due?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three papers.” The tapping of keys is heard. “I have a Biology lab report due Friday, this Political Science essay due Wednesday, and a Communications paper due tomorrow at 9.” He sighs, taking a moment to shovel some food into his mouth. “Who let me double major in Biology and Politics? Why am I doing this to myself? ” He turns, an exasperated look on his face, before it shifts to confusion: “Why are you wearing my shirt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama blinks, processing the other’s spiel, before looking down at the black shirt he’s wearing. That </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> explain why his chest felt a bit tight, and he honestly wasn’t paying attention when he was getting dressed. “...Huh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma drags a hand down his face, cheeks reddening again. “Did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> just now notice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama shrugs, placing his bowl down and reaching for the bottom hem: “I can take it off-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine!” Karasuma squeaks, his whole face now a deep shade of red from his neck to his hairline, although his hand tries to cover the majority of his face. “It’s to be expected, we are roommates! Our laundry gets mixed up all the time!” His eyes are glued to the screen now, pointedly avoiding eye contact as he frantically tries to eat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right…” Takayama speaks, slowly letting go of his shirt, then lifting the bowl again and continuing his meal. After a couple minutes, he glances over to Karasuma. “Your ears are red…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma basically jumps, head swiveling towards his friend. “It’s just warm, that’s all!” He stands up abruptly, textbook and laptop in arms. “Y’know, I think I’m pretty tired, actually. I’m going to turn in. He frantically moves around, putting his dishes in the sink before awkwardly skittering down the hall to their shared room. “Goodnight!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Goodnight.” Takayama responds back, blinking in confusion about being suddenly alone in the living room.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>With everything in order, bags packed and all, Karasuma finally clicks the door to their apartment shut and locks itat 2:30 in the morning. “You ready?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama cradles Tempest in his arms, with what he can carry strapped to his back. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s only a minute’s flight to Takayama’s grandfather’s place. They both land with a solid </span>
  <em>
    <span>thump</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside, the lights are already on (the elderly Takayama was practically nocturnal), and soon the door rattles and opens to reveal the elder with a grin on his face and open arms: “So good to see you two!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Grandpa.” Takayama smiles, entering the house with Karasuma in tow. “Have you been doing well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, same as usual. Would you like some tea before getting on the road?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re good, thank you.” Karasuma says gratefully, as Takayama starts to set Tempest up in the corner of his grandfather’s living space. “Thank you for watching Tempest again, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, please, it’s the least I could do! Besides, I love this kind little gal.” He beams, bending down slightly to pet the puppy’s head. “She really has grown a lot since I’ve last seen her.” Tempest licks his hand in response, earning a laugh. “How’s school going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, the term just ended, so I’ve been quite busy with finals and such.” Karasuma scratches the side of his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Well I assume you did well. I never went to college, too expensive, but it’s always good to continue learning.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should get going.” The younger Takayama says, standing up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, of course, you have a long flight ahead.” His grandfather places a hand on his shoulder. “Sou, my boy, can I talk to you for a minute, first?” He looks warmly at the both of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other nods, “Yeah, of course,” as Tempest runs in circles around his legs. “Eishi, you can go on ahead, I’ll show up later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waving the elder goodbye, Karasuma closes the door to Takayama’s home, before jetting off into the sky. He goes in a lazy circle, before skirting off to the left for a few minutes until he reaches the familiar sight of his friends’ apartment complex. He lands with a solid thump onto the sidewalk pavement, readjusting the bag on his shoulder before climbing the steps to the top floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda and Sagisawa’s apartment was close to the staircase, and Karasuma wastes no time before rapping on the beige door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can hear rustling from inside, and a moment later Kamoda opens the door, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawning: “Right on-” he yawns again, “-time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma rolls his eyes before stepping into Kamoda and Sagisawa’s apartment. “You forgot to shave, dummy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda scratches the patch of stubble on his chin. “Oh, yeah. I should go do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Sagisawa whines from where he sits on the couch, shoving clothes into his suitcase. “Eishi, why’d you point it out! He looks so good with stubble!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He looks like a gang member.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A handsome gang member!” Sagisawa pouts as he stands and walks over to Kamoda, throwing his arms over the taller boy’s shoulder. “He looks so young when he’s clean shaven…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda laughs. “I don’t want to have a beard at Barbara’s wedding, Rei!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fineeee,” The brunet whines, as his boyfriend wiggles his way out of his grasp. “Go ahead, destroy your wonderful, growing beard.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda disappears into their nearby bathroom. He calls out from around the door: Where’s Sou?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma places his bag among the others. “He’s dropping off Tempest at his grandfather’s. He’ll be here any minute. Where are the girls?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa waves dismissively. “Umino texted and said they’d be here in 10. Irene hates getting up this early.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do too!” Kamoda interjects from the bathroom. “Who willingly wants to wake up at 3 am?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the best time to fly. If you didn’t like it, you should’ve voted differently a few months ago!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just </span>
  <em>
    <span>tiiiiiired</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa smiles at his friend. “Coffee?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They make their way to the kitchen, Sagisawa pouring a cup before sliding it across the counter to Karasuma. “Hey, what’s up with your hand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I burned it.” Karasuma takes a sip. “It should be healed by the time we’re in Germany.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ouch. How’d that happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma’s mind recalls the memory of Takayama’s hand on his hip, and his ears start to burn once more. “I was just an idiot and touched the pan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raising an eyebrow, the Trickster takes a sip from his own mug. “Is Sou involved in this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma merely grumbles into his mug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, you need to get it together already. Or, more specifically, </span>
  <em>
    <span>get together with Sou already.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s complicated!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been using that excuse for five years now! Eishi, you’re both into each other, and I’m seriously at my wits end here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> at your wits end?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!!” He flails a free hand in the air. “It is </span>
  <em>
    <span>agonizing </span>
  </em>
  <span>having an ability to detect your friends’ emotions all the time! Eishi, the second-hand embarrassment I’ve had to live through!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> bad!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember that time in highschool when you tripped and Sou caught you?! I could hear your screaming from the other side of Tokyo!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey-!!“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or that time when you had an arm wrestling match with him, and Sou was </span>
  <em>
    <span>obviously</span>
  </em>
  <span> just trying to hold your hand for as long as possible, and then he </span>
  <em>
    <span>threw the match</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I won that game fair and square!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“OR when at my birthday party that one time-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I GET IT!!” The shorter man covers his flushed face. “I just-it’s complicated, okay?! I refuse to make a move, and seriously, I have no clue if Takayama’s even interested in dating me!” He takes a breath. “I mean, he’s so brash and impulsive anyways, if he wanted to date me he would’ve said something by now, right? Or at least cryptically say it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa sighs. “Maybe you should make a first move, then. You don’t even have to ask him out, just, y’know, open up the conversation to talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easier said than done,” Karasuma mumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sharp rap sounds from the door, and Sagisawa gleefully abandons Karasuma in the kitchen to open the door for Irene and Umino.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry we’re late~!” Umino grins, pulling Irene in with her. “I had to drag this grumpy guts out of bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irene wrinkles her nose. “Not everyone can wake up whenever they want, you know. I’m on a </span>
  <em>
    <span>schedule</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can take a cat nap later.” Umino teases. She looks up to her best friends. “Eishi, where’s Sou? Did you lose him while on the flight over?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma sighs. “He’ll be here any-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Takayama sounds out from behind the two women. “Am I late?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right on time!” Kamoda shouts, sliding across the floor in his socks. “I just chugged an energy drink, so I’m ready to hit the road! How long is our flight supposed to be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two to three days?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay! I hate that but I’m keeping up the energy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Umino bursts out into laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stop for a brief rest in the mountains. Sagisawa looks over at the rising sun, with a low whistle as he takes in the view. “You don’t see something like this that often.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When was the last time we all even went on a trip?” Kamoda asks, stretching his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably not since third year of junior high.” Karasuma notes. He catches Takayama looking at him from the side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama points at the nearest tree in the forest. “We can rest in the branches for the night.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sou, I know we’re birdmen, but do we really have to sleep like birds?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a nice tree.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They land in Germany the next day, onto the roof of the hotel Sagisawa had organized for them all to stay at.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here’s the deal.” Sagisawa says, after grabbing the key from the front desk. “I’ve gotten us two rooms, with two beds each. I was thinking for one room it’s Eishi, Mikisada, and I, and Irene, Tsubame, and Sou in the other.” He passes the card to Irene. “The wedding’s on Friday, but I still expect everybody to show up to rehearsal dinner, as well as Barbara’s ‘bachelorette’ party tomorrow!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ay, ay, Captain.” Irene mocks, hitching her bag over her shoulder, then making her way to the staircase. “We’re on the fifth floor, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great, I think I’m going to go sleep for 12 hours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma lets out an amused huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s it rooming with Sou?” Kamoda asks, after plopping on top of the clean hotel sheets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma drops his bag at the foot of his bed. “It’s fine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, since you’re in separate rooms for the first time in months, I was just curious!” He sits up. “I mean, doesn’t he still snore?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma feels his eye twitch at the memories. “Yes. He works mainly night shifts, but I’ve still had to throw a pillow at him a few times on his night off. He snores worse than you, Mikisada!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> I don't believe.” Sagisawa laughs, stepping out of the bathroom, drying off his hair with a towel. “Mikisada snores like a freight train, and has the death grip of a viper.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda sticks his tongue out. “Says the blanket hog!”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Been a while since my last chapter note! The next two chapters will have mentions of drinking (and Karasuma gets a little tipsy), but I don't really focus on alcohol (that's not the point of this fic). Once again, if you'd rather me make a summary of both chapters, just comment below and I'll provide :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Heyy, nice to see you guys!” Barbara cheers, throwing the door open and opening her arms in greeting. “Welcome to the ‘party’--though there isn’t much to do other than drinks and video games.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irene grins. “Sounds like a party to me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is why we’re friends,” Barbara laughs, shooing the group inside. “Fiona and Saqr are already here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Umino perks up at the mention of Fiona’s name, looking over Barbara’s shoulder before cheering: “Fiona!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” The girl waves from where she sits at a table, yelping when Umino basically runs over to give her a hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s it going, nerd?” Barbara laughs, giving Karasuma a friendly noogie. Karasuma tries to bat the future bride’s arm away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, thanks for asking. Ready to get married this week?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely,” She grins. “But first, I’m going to drink and kick Saqr’s ass in Mario Kart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fionaaaa, you look so pretty!!” Umino beams, leaning against the blonde.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha-are you drunk already?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, she’s just being overly-friendly, like usual.” Irene rolls her eyes with a smile as she takes a sip of her own drink. “So what have you been up to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fiona scrunches her nose up and readjusts her shoulders with Umino weighing on top of her. “I’m studying. Working my way through University, as you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? What’re you majoring in?” Karasuma places his phone down from mindlessly scrolling on the internet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The younger girl dismisses him with a wave. “I’m not sure yet. Probably something in fashion? I like designing outfits, but I’d rather have a job as a creative director…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna be someone’s boss, huh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just like being in charge, Irene! What about you, you’re in college too!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I’ll just keep being a barista forever.” The woman laughs. “But, next year I’m graduating with a focus in Chemistry and Japanese.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I help her practice,” Umino chimes in, “with the Japanese, of course. I may be on track to being a nurse, but Irene is </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> better at chemistry than me. Hey! Tokyo is a great center for fashion inspiration, you should totally study abroad and room with us! It’ll be so fun, pleaseee?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“U-Um,” Fiona sputters, cheeks turning red as she attempts to move Umino off of her. “Shouldn’t we talk about something wedding-related?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, it’s fun just listening and being nosey, though!” Barbara laughs, before taking a swig of her drink. “Besides, I barely get to hear about what you all are studying. I know pipsqueak and I are working towards something with the government.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My main focus is Biology, though,” Karasuma's nose wrinkles at the nickname. “I’d rather just be a professor at a college than some corrupt political figure. Political science just helps on an ethical level.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah. I wish you luck on your road to be a wacky Biology professor that sets fire to classrooms.” She leans back in her chair. “I know Saqr is deep into coding and 3-D modeling, and wavy-haired mentioned something about art and business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mikisada’s trying to become a vet!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, for the cats.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda perks up from across the room, accidentally bumping roughly into Takayama as he raises his glass and shouts: “For the cats!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Taka is…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma shrugs. “Working as a mechanic. He didn’t want to go to college, so.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, I’m honestly not surprised. Your boyfriend’s always struck me as that sort of type-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-He’s not my boyfriend!” Karasuma ears are burning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh</span>
  <em>
    <span>, right</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Barbara sends him a wink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma decides to just chug his beverage instead of argue. Irene lets out a holler of laugher, slapping the bar at the sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These two have their heads so up their own asses it’s hilarious.” Irene cattily takes another sip of her drink. “How’d you even deal with them during the trip as the Seven?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma is close to having his head set aflame. “What?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t easy, I’ll tell you what!” Barbara lets out a loud laugh. “Do you know how many times I’ve had to listen to Shorty basically wax-poetic as he woefully stares at Taka from afar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘wax-poetic</span>
  </em>
  <span>-!’“</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Takayama wasn’t really into parties. He’s also not really one for drinking, either, so he’s a bit at a loss for what to do at a semi-bachelorette party in Germany.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Karasuma had split off to get a drink and chat with Barbara, Takayama decided to just sit down on the couch with Saqr. The 22 year-old lifts his water in greeting. “Not drinking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really.” He looks at the television. “Are you playing video games..?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When am I not?” He gives a lopsided smile before readjusting the console in his hand. “I’m playing Rocket League with Kamoda right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda sounds off from the armchair nearby. “How are you so good at this?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna play?” Saqr tosses a controller at the other, who easily catches it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama does not know how to play video games, but by the end of the night he’s gotten good enough to score multiple games in the goalie, much to Kamoda’s chagrin (“he didn’t even know what buttons to push three hours ago!”).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama stands and stretches, when Barbara walks up to him. “Hey, we're wrapping up for the evening, so you should really take your boyfriend to his room.” She gestures over to where Karasuma is arguing with Irene about something over by the bar. “He had like, barely anything to drink and he’s already tipsy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama blinks. “Eishi isn’t my boyfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bride-to-be smiles, before realizing he’s not joking, and opts instead to raise an eyebrow. “Wait, like actually? Don’t you two live together?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barbara looks over to Karasuma, before back at Takayama. She sighs. “Taka, we’re talking about this after my wedding.” She pats him on the back. “Just help him get to his hotel room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma shows up out of nowhere. “I’m not drunk, Barbara.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolls her eyes at this. “Yeah, but you’re not exactly sober, are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not like this is the first time! I’ve been 20 for like, 8 months now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then Taka has already had to help out once or twice, stop being stubborn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma scowls, slightly flushed from the booze. “Whatever.” He grabs onto Takayama’s wrist and marches him out the doors and into the cool night air. Takayama waves to the others, and Irene raises her glass and shouts something about catching up later, before the door falls shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma wrinkles his nose slightly. “Blegh, beer tastes terrible.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to drink.” Takayama replies, but Karasuma tugs on his wrist slightly, and they start the trek down to the hotel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was well into the night already, the cool winter air nipping at Takayama's hands as the two traverse down the sidewalk. The younger of the two wiggles his hand slightly out of his friend’s grip, sliding his hand up so their hands are connected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma suddenly stops on the sidewalks. Takayama doesn’t think about it much until Karasuma whips around to face him. “Why do you always grab my hand?” His nose scrunches up again, cheeks flushed from embarrassment, the cold, and alcohol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I like holding it.” Holding Karasuma’s hand made him feel secure in a way holding other seraphs’ hands didn’t. Takayama still hasn’t figured out why. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma huffs, before continuing their walk, hands still boundas they round the corner and enter the hotel. They board the elevator, and Karasuma sways just a bit, </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span> resting his head upon Takayama’s shoulder before the door pings open, and he leaves. Takayama’s a little disappointed, for some reason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They reach Karasuma’s room, the man struggling to find his hotel key. Something seems to click in his head, as he glances at their hands before looking at the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stares down at his feet for a good long minute, so much so Takayama thinks he might have fallen asleep. Then, Karasuma snaps his head up, mouth pulled in a tight line, cheeks redder than they were a minute ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes are more focused, calculating every inch of the other's face. "What do you really think of me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama blinks; open, honest. "What do you mean?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He supposes it was the wrong answer, as Karasuma's frown grows more pronounced for a second, before he swallows it up. His eyes shine and water and Takayama almost asks about it, but Karasuma doesn't let him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, that's what I thought." He fumbles for his hotel key. "Goodnight, Takayama." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door slams shut in his face.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>On the day of the wedding Takayama steps out of his room and knocks on his friends’ door, which swings open, and he immediately comes face-to-face with Karasuma. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hair is pushed back, and he fiddles with his tux. Barbara had insisted every person incorporate the color of their marks into their attire, and Sagisawa refused to let them go without looking their </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolute </span>
  </em>
  <span>best, so he had spent the last 4 months meticulously trimming and tailoring every one of the bird club's outfits. With all the  pushing the envelope, Takayama didn't have time to see the other's looks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now he can take it all in, Karasuma's all black attire: dress shirt, vest, and suit jacket. He remembers Karasuma had to fight to not have a tie or anything of the sort. Now, Karasuma can’t stop fiddling with his hands, tucking his suit jacket back to adjust the vest, then smoothing out the sides once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks...</span>
  <em>
    <span>really good</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A lot better than Takayama does at the moment, in his wrinkled white shirt and red boxer briefs. Takayama supposes it's the embarrassment that's caused his ears to burn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Um, morning." Karasuma speaks, letting the other into the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You look nice." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Y-Yeah?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. I'm not used to your hair being pushed back."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma instantly reaches a hand to his hair, gently tucking a strand behind his ear. "Rei insisted. He's a bit frantic this morning."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama nods, unsure of what to say, when he's saved by the hotel door behind him being practically kicked in, with a frazzled Sagisawa holding the doorknob. He’s ready to go too, with a white dress shirt, gray vest, and a black and white suit jacket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>There</span>
  </em>
  <span> you are!" He hurriedly shoves his way in, squatting next to his bed and fumbling with the zipper of his suitcase. "Sorry to cut your moment short but Sou, you need to get dressed, </span>
  <em>
    <span>now.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Standing up, the curly-haired man shoves a white, plastic bag into Takayama's arms before practically throwing him into the bathroom and locking the door. He can hear Kamoda and Karasuma laughing loudly from the other side as Sagisawa fusses over something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama can’t help but to smile as he carefully removes the bag to reveal the suit. Sagisawa had argued with him that he couldn’t just make the suit out of wingmass, saying it was “improper,” so Takayama accepted his fate and started to get dressed. His suit was similar to Karasuma’s, cut from the same cloths for each garment, but still a few things that made it truly his. The red tie is a big giveaway, as well as the inner lining of the jacket being a nice scarlet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gets dressed, leaving the tie undone until the very last moment. He hasn’t worn a tie since middle school, and he isn’t that keen to wear one again. He quietly opens the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda, who sits on the bench, his suit jacket folded over his knee and green bow-tie in the middle of being tied, breaks into a grin. “Woah-hoah! Fancy! I can’t remember the last time you wore anything fancier than jeans!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama smiles. “It has been a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your tie’s crooked.” Karasuma remarks cooly, but his face burns as the words spill out. Takayama’s heart does a small flip at the sight. He fixes his tie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a knock at the door before Umino steps through, sporting a blue suit over a black undershirt in a sweetheart neckline. She’s struggling to pull on one of her black heels. “You guys look awesome! But we need to leave, like, now though. If Barbara doesn’t have our heads, Rei will!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irene peeks her head in. She’s in a light gray suit, plus a light green button-up. “I’d hate to see how Rei acts on </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> wedding day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda groans into his palm. “Please, I get stressed thinking about it. At least I won’t see him for most of the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma has a look of horror. “I don’t think I can handle the stress of running between you and him.” He checks his phone. “Shit. Alright, showtime, I guess! Let’s get a move on!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all move down the stairs of the hotel, walking briskly down the street to the venue: a nice, quaint building located a few minutes walk down the street. The outside was decked with flowers and other wedding decor, but the names were left blank, for anonymity’s sake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’ve arrived a few hours early, so they can all set up and prepare for the official event. Takayama spots seraphim milling about, frantically trying to fix bouquets and roll up napkins into birds. He blinks, and everyone’s already disappeared. He can hear Sagisawa advising and updating the staff on the plans for the night, Kamoda trailing behind and trying not to snatch a pastry from off a stray tray. The girls are completely gone, probably to go talk to Barbara. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama doesn’t know what to do, until Karasuma appears, gently pushing him past the kitchen and to the back of the building. “You look lost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a lot of people.” Takayama replies, which causes Karasuma to scoff playfully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> a wedding, you know. I’m sure Barbara’s more stressed than any of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama hums at that, letting Karasuma push him up a spiral staircase and to the second floor, where more seraphim flock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a high-pitched squeal, and suddenly he feels someone hugging the side of his waist. He looks down to see Malaika, who grins with her whole being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sou!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama immediately feels some tension drop from his shoulders as he pats the twelve-year-old’s back. “Hey, Malaika.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so excited for today!” Malaika turns around in her white dress, the orange accented tutu twirling along with her. She beams up at Takayama and Karasuma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look very pretty.” Karasuma compliments from beside Takayama.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“T-Thank you!!” She points up to where her hair has been braided up into two different buns. “I-I had help with my hair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malaika’s smile only widens, as she links her arm with Takayama and starts to pull him towards the end of the hall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone’s getting ready, but can you help me find my shoes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two hour, and a hectic search for shoes later, the wedding ceremony begins. The guests file into the arranged seas, and Takayama tries to stick to the plan as he takes a spot next to Karasuma up front. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They look down the aisle to watch as Malaika and the five-year-old ring bearer make their way down. Malaika scatters flower petals in one hand, holding onto the young boy’s hand with the other. He’s grinning toothily, wavy blonde hair bouncing as he bounds up the steps to where he’s been instructed to stand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When did those two get so old?” Karasuma mumbles from the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s an unspoken: </span>
  <em>
    <span>When did </span>
  </em>
  <span>we</span>
  <em>
    <span> get so old?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The music at the piano crescendos, and Barbara enters through the big wooden doors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>radiant</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her wedding dress is unmistakingly fit for her, a mermaid-style lace with long sleeves and a collared v-neck. She’s absolutely beaming, her usual punk, spiked hair curled to be wavy and swept to the right side of her face in bangs. Being Barbara, she keeps her jewelry, with silver and white earrings and a nose ring to match. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The flower bouquet in her hands is a combination of dark blue, light blue, and white roses, their green leaves spiralling from the stems. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slowly makes her way down, never looking away from Adler, who is smiling softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she reaches the top, she hands off her bouquet to Umino, who smiles as she takes it, before taking Adler’s hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look beautiful.” Alder whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barbara’s smile softens even more. “So do you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please be seated.” The officiator calls, and the wedding begins, fully. The officiant opens, addresses the couple, and lets them exchange their vows,</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(“To my right hand man, to the one who’s been there for me through thick and thin, my best friend and first and only love. We have been through a lot, haven’t we? I’m sure I’ve caused enough stress to account for the few gray hairs on your head already, and I know you’d let your whole hair go gray if it meant my happiness. I want you to know I love you, your patience and your heart, and I doubt me or the castle we ran would still be up if it weren’t for you. I promise to continue loving you, to look out for you, to continue protecting you dearly, and I promise to always steal the blankets in the morning. I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“To my everything, thank you for always being you. From your fierce bravado, boisterous ambitions, to your soft voice and kisses. Every day, waking up to you feels like a dream I never want to wake from. There was a time when we were apart, for months at a time, and it made me truly appreciate how much I need you by my side. I may not be a man of many words, but I promise to always love you, whether in sickness or in health, rain or shine, night or day. I will support you in everything you do, and I know you would do the same for me. As long as we both shall live, I will always be by your side.”)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They exchange rings, a sleek silver fitting for both, and they lock their pinkies together as the officiant announces their marriage, and Barbara pulls Adler down into a kiss, the crowd cheering and clapping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guests file into the dining area, and cocktail hour begins. The guests find their seats, first, before heading over to the bars and to trailing waitresses with appetizers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama and Karasuma are seated at a special table reserved for the Seven (plus Takayama), where they idly wait for the chaos to die down before heading out into the crowd. Takayama can see Kamoda make a beeline to the appetizers he’s been eyeing all day, while Umino laughs at something Fiona said, taking a sip of her water. He spots Guang Feng setting his glass of alcohol on fire, before his friend (the one with the ponytail) yells at him to cut it out, and wiping it away with a grumble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An announcer steps onto the stage, a grin on his face as he boosts his voice, waving his hand to the door and introducing the newlyweds, who come dancing into the space, joy evident as they make their way to the dance floor for their first dance. The DJ starts to play a soft song in German Takayama can’t quite catch, but he finds himself smiling as Adler spins Barbara along. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They finish, and food arrives not long after. A vibrant dish of beef and vegetables is set in front Takayama, and he picks up his utensils to start eating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ten minutes later, Karasuma twiddles with the fork in his hand, a nervous habit he's always had. "This is nice, isn't it?" He looks over to where Barbara and Adler laugh from where they sit. Takayama feels a smile tug at the corners of his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They look happy."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Karasuma replies. He takes a sip of his water, before wiping the condensation on his napkin. "Have you ever thought about marriage?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama blinks. "I can't say I've put much thought into it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, you've never really dated or anything of the sort. But, if you were, to say, date someone, how would you feel about it all?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama  finds himself looking down at his plate. "I..suppose it would be nice." He tries to imagine it, but he has a hard time coming up with a complete picture. People in love got married, went on dates, lived together. Takayama can't find it within himself to want anything to change, and something about the idea of moving out of Karasuma and his apartment to go live with someone else felt...</span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sou?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...I like where I'm at now, I think." It's the best way he can think of how to word it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...So why does Karasuma look so </span>
  <em>
    <span>broken</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I-I suppose that makes sense." The shorter one breathes, voice barely over a whisper. Takayama frowns. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you oka-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma stands up abruptly, hands slightly shaking as he pushes in the white chair. "I-I think, um, I need to go to the restroom. Uh, please excuse me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dashes away before Takayama can say anything, disappearing into the nearby bathroom a few feet away. From the table beside him, Kamoda immediately stands and sprints after. Sagisawa glares at him before following.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next to him, Saqr's face is full of pity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama isn't sure what just happened.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>[maniacal laughter]</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Karasuma slams his way into the venue’s bathroom, over to the nearest sink and turning on the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, he was such a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>idiot</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He isn’t sure what he was expecting. Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course </span>
  </em>
  <span>Takayama wouldn’t be interested, of course it’s always been one-sided, of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> Karasuma has been relentlessly pining, for </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span>, for </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing-</span>
  </em>
  <span>!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda and Sagisawa barge in, calling his name, and it’s too much. He can’t breathe. It’s so ridiculous. He can’t believe he’s focused on himself right now, on all days, on Barbara’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>wedding </span>
  </em>
  <span>no less-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eishi, please calm down.” Kamoda’s voice is gentle, patting his back as Karasuma’s hands instinctively curl up over his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so stupid.” He hates that his voice cracks at the end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa is practically fuming, his pacing footsteps heard behind Karasuma. “I’m going to kill him. I’m actually going to kill him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rei, he doesn’t know-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>problem</span>
  </em>
  <span>! You’d think Sou would figure it out by now! I’m this close to going out there and-and-I don’t know! Throttling him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma convinces himself enough to pull his hands away and look at himself and his friends through the mirror. He doesn’t want to think about how puffy his eyes are. “Rei, it’s fine. I mean, you can’t be mad at him for not </span>
  <em>
    <span>liking</span>
  </em>
  <span> me-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! He LITERALLY does!” Sagisawa flails his hands in the air and aggressively point to the door, “maybe if he wasn’t so fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>DENSE-</span>
  </em>
  <span>“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door creeps open, and Karasuma is honestly ready to see Takayama and lose his shit, but instead it’s Miguel, hand on the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miguel looks utterly confused and thoroughly uncomfortable. “Uh…” he cracks a nervous smile, “Bad timing...?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma buries his face in his hands again and groans. “This moment just gets better and better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haha, uh…” His voice quiets as he backs up. “I’ll...find another restroom.” The door creaks closed, and Karasuma almost laughs over the absurdity of it all. In fact, he does, a pathetic chuckle tumbling out of his throat and burning like molten lava. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is just-</span>
  <em>
    <span>fantastic</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He sarcastically drawls, the last word like venom. He forces himself to straighten up, refusing to curl any further up into a ball like some sort of teenager. “I have no clue how I’m going to be able to look him in the eyes ever after this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa looks to have calmed down ever so slightly. “Don’t worry about him. I’ll talk to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously, don’t. He’s already made himself clear. I’ll just push it down and act like it was nothing and go back out there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, like hell you will.” Sagisawa pushes a pointer finger into Karasuma’s chest. “Okay, first, you really need to work on this internalizing things issue. Second, Sou likes you. Everyone knows it but him and you, apparently. Three, don’t worry about it. For now, at least. It’s Barbara’s wedding, and I know you’re flipping out about being selfish, so take the time to enjoy yourself. Eat food, dance with us, all of that! You can worry about Sou afterwards.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No buts!” Sagisawa puffs his chest. “As the President of the Bird Club, this is an official statement for my VP!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma feels the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile for a second. “Really, our old leadership positions?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kamoda smiles sympathetically, pulling Karasuma away from the sink. “You heard the boss! No more moping until later, okay? Then we can figure things out clearly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that easy, but,” Karasuma lets himself be pulled out of the sanctuary of the bathroom and back into the main area. “I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dinner has finished and wrapped up, meaning the festivities have shifted to dancing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa drags him out onto the floor, and Karasuma grunts in annoyance, but doesn’t let go as his friends dance around him, twirling him around until he’s dizzy and laughing.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Takayama realizes he’s alone at the table. Dinner had long been over, but Takayama was unsure of what to do. All of his friends had disappeared into the crowd; seraphs mingling about and laughing and chatting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slowly stands up, slowly pushing his way through the crowd. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ends up at the venue’s bar, taking a seat on the bar stool, ordering water and taking a sip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Umino and Irene show up out of nowhere, Umino raising her voice so the bartender hears her order, before plopping next to her friend. “Looks like the night’s really kicking off!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama merely sips his drink. “Mhm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irene grabs her drink handed to her, taking a moment to ruffle Takayama’s hair, before taking a sip herself and glancing down to where Robin is arguing politely with Rooster. “If you’ll excuse me.” She adds a wink before sliding her way over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Umino swirls the straw in her glass as she laughs. “Looks like Irene’s off to have some fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama shrugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blue-haired girl leans forward on the table to get a better look at her friend. “Hey, what’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m no expert when it comes to your emotions like Eishi is, but you look sad!” Her eyebrows pinch up in concern, but her smile is polite and welcoming. “Did you get into a fight with him or something? I think I remember him running off to the bathroom, earlier.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...” Takayama tries to think back on what he had said before Karasuma disappeared. “I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Umino winces, before patting his back good naturedly. “I’m not fully in on the situation, but I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s happening.” Her eyes twinkle a little bit. “Man, this is kinda like a romcom!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A romcom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighs into her drink. “I forgot you’re still oblivious.” Takayama wants to ask her what she means. He’s lived so many years of his life unaware of anything, himself or his powers or his </span>
  <em>
    <span>species</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And now his emotions, thick and indecipherable, settle on top of his shoulders </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His friend stands up. “You care about Eishi, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With my life.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiles. “Then you’ll be okay. You guys always are.” She winks, before disappearing into the crowd. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama looks down at the bar’s counter, before standing up. He guesses he’ll look for Karasuma. He turns, and the crowd’s size is engulfing, but he forces himself to enter the fray. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The seraph in charge of DJing shifts the song, keeping the energy up, the tempo basically thrumming against Takayama’s heart and temples. He pauses for a moment, trying to calm himself, when he spots Karasuma at the far edge of the dancing area. He’s dancing, smiling, and something about his expression  makes Takayama’s stomach twist up tight, his chest feeling like it’s caved in. He drinks some water, swallows, and keeps looking ahead, watching Karasuma as he takes a break with an unfamiliar seraph to talk to Umino and Kamoda. It’s all so confusing. Why, why are his emotions jumbling around like this? Why does he look at Karasuma and </span>
  <em>
    <span>ache</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He backs up, and ends up bumping into someone. Sagisawa side steps away holding his own drink. He thinks Sagisawa asks him a question, but he doesn’t hear it, he keeps his eyes forward as he tries to wrap his mind around his heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sou?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama sighs. He wished he knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa, the Trickster that he is, was probably the true mind-reader all along, because he looks over and answers Takayama’s questions as if he was telling the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re in love with Eishi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, everything makes sense; all his emotions click into place in Takayama’s head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then it feels like he’s plummeting. Like he just dove from the highest height he dared to ever fly, the face of the Earth approaching quicker than he can slow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, woah. Hey.” Sagisawa lends a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “Have you really never considered it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries to navigate speech around his beating heart. “I don’t think about these things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa lets out a strained chuckle “That’s for sure. Y’know, for being one of the most powerful seraphs in history, you really are dense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama rakes his hand through his hair. “Has he known all this time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has he known he’s liked you for five years? Yes. Has he accepted you may feel the same?” The brunette takes a sip of his drink. “Not at all. Your denseness threw him off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama suddenly thinks back to the past 8 months, to the past 5 </span>
  <em>
    <span>years. </span>
  </em>
  <span>All the looks, the blushing, the leading words and whispered laughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What do you really think of me?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama exhales a held breath. “I think I’ve messed up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can fix it.” Sagisawa smiles, “Really, I know you two act like it’s the hardest thing ever, but all you really need to do is just talk about your feelings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Talk...how can Takayama talk with all of these memories buzzing in his head? With the guilt and shame and bewilderment and affection? With his heart beating faster than it has in years, and Takayama, for the first time in a long while, feeling sick to his stomach? How has he never connected the dots? How could he see a prophecy, change the world, string seven people together from all sides of the globe, but he couldn’t see the way his mind always wandered back to the boy who started it all? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa’s voice seems faded, washed away by a loud buzzing. “Sou, are you-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pulse of energy shoots out all around them, making their marks scream, and a blackout hole begins to form high above the venue.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I didn't think breaking these two up into two different chapters would flow nice, so this chapter has a POV switch !</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Weddings are stressful. A bundle of emotions from all parties involved come to a boiling point, and in hindsight, Karasuma should’ve guessed this would happen. It was inevitable, after all, and it’s not like he was having the best day, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking care of the blackout was no problem, all the seraphs instinctively knew what to do, taking off their suits and sprouting their wings up into the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What Karasuma wasn’t expecting, when he ran out to join the fray, was for a giant bug to crawl it’s way out of the hole, screaming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Takayama’s blackout. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no denying it, after years of being his friend. Karasuma had memorized every aspect of the Bird Club’s motifs. The black beast shudders its way out, before flipping its wings open and barreling at the nearest seraph in the sky. Someone sharpens their wings into a blade, dives past and slices the creature open across the back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Horrifyingly, smaller blackouts emerge from the husk, swarming around, a few screams from seraphim sounding from inside the mass. It moves like a thick fog, a constant chatter </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> unintelligible enough, but on the brink of being feasible. They fall easily, and it’s not even 5 minutes before the last of the swarm is cut, burned, and sliced down and evaporates into the sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needs to find Takayama.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Takayama </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>wishes everything were quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No matter where he turns, there are only dozens of more people pushing and shoving and </span>
  <em>
    <span>talking</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Takayama feels like his chest is going to combust. His tie is way too tight, the jacket on his back feels like a cage, the temperature is going up. Why does it feel like the guest size has doubled, why isn’t there any </span>
  <em>
    <span>room</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He fumbles his way through the crowd, trying to find a space </span>
  <em>
    <span>somewhere</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He needs to think, needs to </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He looks over, and spots Umino discussing feverishly with Karasuma, who looks just as frantic. Karasuma turns, and for a moment, they make eye contact. Karasuma starts to move and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Takayama runs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns a complete 180 and practically pushes Pierre over in his attempt to flee. He can hear Karasuma yell his name, but he doesn’t stop, he just keeps </span>
  <em>
    <span>moving</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he can register it, he reaches the venue’s glass back door, and he shoves it open, stumbling out and onto the pavement, hands on his knees, gasping. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thunder claps from above him, and rain pelts his head and starts to drench his suit. He can’t really find a reason to care, as he keeps moving, quickly maneuvering down the steps and into the nearby garden, sitting on a marble bench. He stares up at the dark clouds above his head, the rain still pouring, and Takayama closes his eyes and tries to breathe. </span>
  <em>
    <span>In, out.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He sits there for what feels like forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the rain suddenly stops pinging against Takayama’s face, he quizzically opens his eyes, shocked to see the outline of a black, plastic umbrella. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s raining.” Karasuma says, holding onto the stem tight, not even caring as the rings of rain dampen his slicked back hair and suit. He’s both the last and the only person Takayama wants to see right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama swallows the lump in his throat. “So it is.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other takes a clumsy seat next to him on the bench, both now under the sanctuary of the umbrella. Karasuma looks forward, watching the waves of rain hit the flowers, and Takayama knows he’s trying to think of what to say. A drop of rain falls from his hair and rolls down his face, and the more Takayama looks at him, the more his heart </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurts</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His brain pulls up a memory from back in highschool, where they would sit in the abandoned plot behind Takayama’s home. Spring had finally come, and Karasuma was observing all the flowers that had bloomed for the season. The teen had looked over at him, smiling wide and with an utter expression of joy, and Takayama had pressed his face closer, their noses touching, the sun shining on their skin. Karasuma had turned away a few moments later, laughing and blushing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembers the conversation he had with his grandfather a week ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m glad you’re not alone anymore.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Takayama scratched the top of Tempest’s head. “He’s a good friend.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That caused his grandfather to smile, the kind of smile he always had when he seemed to know something just out of the younger man’s grasp.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He’s traveled the world for you, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Takayama blinks. “I suppose.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And you changed the world for him?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Takayama stares down at the wooden planks on the floor. “It was his wish.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His grandfather lets out a sigh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sou, it’s okay to let yourself be in love.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s jostled back to reality when Karasuma finally turns to look at him, mouth open to speak, before he pauses, puzzled, and leans forward. “Why are you crying?”</span>
</p><p> <span>Bringing his hand up to his face, Takayama’s surprised to find tears bubbling and streaming down his already wet face.</span></p><p>
  <span>Karasuma flusters for a moment, unsure of what to do, and settles on grabbing Takayama’s hand. It’s cold, initially, due to the rain, but the warmth is quickly brought again to the surface. “Hey, look at me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The softness in his voice has Takayama following, taking in Karasuma’s concerned, sympathetic face. His mouth’s pulled in a small pout, eyebrows pinched, fondness laced with compassion as he gently squeezes Takayama’s hand. The rain still beats around them, the bushes behind Karasuma shaking with force, and Takayama can faintly hear the sound of music from back inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something in him settles down, and Takayama is slowly grounded. He ducks his head down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma's eyes widen slightly, his hand twitching in Takayama’s grasp. “S-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama doesn’t let him speak. “I’ve been pretty dumb these past five years. I should’ve realized sooner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You-....what?” He blinks in disbelief, a lock of his hair falling in between his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...like you a lot.” Takayama looks briefly away, feeling his cheeks burn. Karasuma is also sporting a deep red. “I think...no, I have for a long time. And I didn’t realize it. Or, I didn’t let myself realize it.” He brings their hands, still joined, up between their chests. “When I said I liked where I am now, I meant by your side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma’s face gets impossibly redder. “Y-Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Karasuma smiles, and it’s the brightest thing Takayama has seen in years. “I like being by your side, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama can’t help but smile back. “I’m glad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma fidgets with the umbrella in his hand. “Well, um, I’m still pretty new to this, but, do you...want to go on a date? When we get back to Tokyo?” He flushes after a moment. “I mean, we do live together already, but, still. Let me take you out somewhere nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama nods. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And neither of them speak, opting instead to continue holding hands as the rain pings around them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-Well-“ Karasuma pipes up, after a minute, quietly dragging Takayama up with him as he stands, “We should go back. I’m sure Rei is losing his mind.” He starts pulling them along and back up the steps, and they’re almost to the door when Takayama stops them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eishi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Karasuma turns around and looks up. And he’s beautiful. “Yeah?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad I met you.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The wedding reception dies down, after everything. Barbara gets everyone to ‘calm down and clam up’ (her words), and they all settle for her and Adler to cut the cake, a wonderful display with alternating chocolate and vanilla tiers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma thinks it’s the best cake he’s ever had. By the time he’s finished, Barbara and Adler had already left, and the rest of the guests were mingling before they made their way back to their respective rooms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama tugs on Karasuma’s arm, gently cueing him he wants to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The walk to the hotel is calming, and when Takayama takes Karasuma’s hand this time, Karasuma lets him, only blushing a tiny bit (only as red as tomatoes). They talk, discussing things and themselves and everything in between, and by the time they get up to their floor and in front of Karasuma’s door he feels lighter than air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama looks at him, a determined, soft expression on his face as he asks: “Can I kiss you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it’s sweet. It’s sweet that after five years of knowing each other, five years of pining and dancing around their feelings, and after the long day they’ve had before confessing, Takayama still asks permission to kiss him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma gently cups the sides of Takayama’s face. “I thought you’d never ask.” He says, before pulling him down and finally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> kissing him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma’s been thinking about this scenario for </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span>. In middle school he tried not to think about his obvious crush too much, but by highschool he had given up on convincing himself otherwise. His life had only gotten busier and busier after they all returned to Japan, but when the moments were quiet, Karasuma kept thinking about what it would be like to finally kiss the boy he was all sorts of crushed for. Some daydreams envisioned it happening after a blackout, a starlit, midnight flight, or maybe on a quiet, summer afternoon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But here was Karasuma’s actual first kiss; after their friend's wedding, before they left to go back to Tokyo tomorrow morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma doesn’t think he’d change this for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>world</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Takayama kisses like he fights: direct, bruising. And Karasuma, the same amount of inexperienced, tries to angle the other’s jaw to soften the kiss, bumping their noses together in the process. It’s not perfect by any means, but it all </span>
  <em>
    <span>feels</span>
  </em>
  <span> right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They have to break for air, soon, and Takayama rests his forehead against Karasuma’s. Trying to look at Takayama like this has Karasuma slightly cross-eyed, but he can’t find it within himself to mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should’ve done this sooner.” Takayama whispers, and Karasuma can’t help it, he lets out a laugh. He throws a giggling fit in the middle of the empty hallway, and his cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Takayama is absolutely beaming at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re beautiful, you know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shush, you.” His hands wind down to fiddle with the collar of Takayama’s shirt before gripping tight. “Just kiss me again before the others get here.” Takayama happily obliges, and Karasuma’s practically drunk from the kiss, giddy, already looking forward to the next hundred they’ll share. Lazy in bed in the morning, chaste, on their way out the door, soft, lounging on the couch while Tempest sleeps nearby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course the others catch them not even a minute later. Irene lets out a whistle the second she steps off the elevator, followed by the rancorous laughter of all their friends. Karasuma breaks to greet the others, but Takayama gives him a quick peck on the cheek that makes him sputter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irene swings the light gray heels she’s worn all night over her shoulder. “PDA, much?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karasuma rolls his eyes, yet doesn’t attempt to move away. “We were just kissing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never thought I’d hear those words.” Sagisawa weeps, wiping away a fake tear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so dramatic, Rei-gah!” He flails as his best friend wraps his giant arms around him and Takayama. “Mikisada, you’re crushing us!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I’m just so happy for you twoooo!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you crying?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Umino lets out a happy shout before jumping into the group hug. “I’m so glad it all worked out!!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s gotten into the both of you?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sagisawa and Irene join as well, leaving Takayama and Karasuma totally enveloped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeez, you guys…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takayama lets out a small bout of laughter, causing everyone else to join in. Karasuma feels purely content.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. BONUS</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is more of a fluffy bonus chapter than anything! Super short and sweet :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It takes a month before Karasuma officially announces they’re going on a date. He’s been mulling over the possibilities every day since they got together, drafting up different ideas, because they already live together, and eat dinner besides each other every day.</p><p>Karasuma wakes up with the idea at the front of his brain, and he shoots up from bed, grabbing his phone to plan.</p><p>His boyfriend shifts from beside him in bed, making a confused noise at the other’s sudden energy. </p><p>“Go back to sleep.” Karasuma chides him, still typing away. </p><p>(Sharing a bed was a recent development; mainly because Takayama is <em> surprisingly </em>clingy, and the second the wild-haired man realized he could sleep with an arm over Karasuma, there was no going back. Karasuma wants to act like it annoys him, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it.)</p><p>“It’s 5 am.” Takayama mutters, and Karasuma muffles him with his pillow. “Mmf.”</p><p>...</p><p>When Saturday rolls around, Karasuma is fully prepared, stepping out into their living room, hoisting a backpack over his shoulder.</p><p>“Get up, we’re going out.” </p><p>Takayama blinks, before shifting to get up. “Can I ask where to?”</p><p>“Nope, it’s a surprise.” Karasuma huffs. “But we’re going on a date.”</p><p>Takayama’s face shifts in a way of confusion for a moment.</p><p>“I promised I’d take you one! Now hurry up!” He starts pushing his boyfriend out the door. “Also, we’re walking.”</p><p>“But-”</p><p>“No complaints! You can hold my hand on the way there.” </p><p>Takayama seems more okay with that idea. He doesn’t even wait for Karasuma to lift his hand in offering, already locking his hand with the other as they start to descend the staircase.</p><p>...</p><p>“Do you remember this place?” Karasuma asks when they get there, turning around to look at the other.</p><p>Takayama seems to think for a moment, squinting his eyes as he looks out over the park. “Uhhh…”</p><p>“I fought my first blackout, here.” Karasuma explains. He moves next to Takayama, pointing at an area next to the lake. “I could’ve sworn I was going to die before you showed up. Don’t get me wrong though, I was super pissed.”</p><p>He turns around to start unzipping his backpack. “I know this doesn’t sound that romantic, but I feel that this place was important to how we got here, and when it comes to how we’ve changed.” He spreads out the blanket, before taking out containers of food. “And, well, it <em> is </em>a park.”</p><p>He looks up to see Takayama smiling at him, and he tries not to blush about it. But he doesn’t need to hide it, does he? “So we’re having a picnic, if you’re up for it.”</p><p>Instead of saying anything, Takayama sits next to him, his smile still evident. “Did you make all of this?”</p><p>“Most of it, I can only prepare so much food between our busy schedules.”</p><p>Takayama kisses his cheek. “Well, thank you.”</p><p>Karasuma thinks he could get used to this.</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>[throws hands in the air] hey, you made it! thank you for reading :D the ending art is by me, btw</p><p>if you liked it, once again feel free to leave kudos and comments! seriously, they make my day. Also, you can scream @ me about this fic on my tumblr @soutakayama , or through my discord, if you know it</p><p>ALSO. you may have noticed I set up some grounds to a Fiona/Umino sequel! If you're interested in maybe seeing that let me know :eyes:</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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